down a flight of steps. Then he walked across the lower road to the very edge of the wharf, and out on a little float. Henry saw at once that the man must belong on some one of the ships at anchor near by, and was probably waiting for a small boat to meet him.
“If I can be of no further help to you,” said Henry, “I must be on my way.”
“I guess I’m safe enough now,” laughed the man. “And I owe it to you that I got here with a whole skin.” He thrust his hand into his pocket and pulled out a little roll of bills. “Take these,” he said to Henry, “and my best wishes.”
Henry looked at the money longingly, but only for a second. “I thank you,” he said, “but I couldn’t do it, sir.”
“At least you will shake hands,” smiled the stranger, and he thrust out his hand. Henry took the proffered hand, shook it warmly, and, saying good-bye, turned on his heel. In a few moments he was back at the crossing, and a second later he had gained the farther curb and was absorbed in the study of the old town where he had spent such memorable days.
But what a difference! This was not the town of St. George as he knew it at all. How it had expanded and been built up. On every hand arose unfamiliar buildings. From a little town