left Braunschmidt amp; Co."
The fat man's eyes contracted till they seemed like pin-points, and their scrutiny made Bateman so uncomfortable that he felt himself blushing.
"I guess Braunschmidt amp; Co. and Edward Barnard didn't see eye to eye on certain matters," he replied.
Bateman did not quite like the fellow's manner, so he got up, not without dignity, and with an apology for troubling him bade him good-day. He left the place with a singular feeling that the man he had just interviewed had much to tell him, but no intention of telling it. He walked in the direction indicated and soon found himself at Cameron's. It was a trader's store, such as he had passed half a dozen of on his way, and when he entered the first person he saw, in his shirt sleeves, measuring out a length of trade cotton, was Edward. It gave him a start to see him engaged in so humble an occupation. But he had scarcely appeared when Edward, looking up, caught sight of him, and gave a joyful cry of surprise.
"Bateman! Who ever thought of seeing you here?"
He stretched his arm across the counter and wrung Bateman's hand. There was no self-consciousness in his manner and the embarrassment was all on Bateman's side.
"Just wait till I've wrapped this package."
With perfect assurance he ran his scissors across the stuff, folded it, made it into a parcel, and handed it to the dark-skinned customer.
"Pay at the desk, please."
Then, smiling, with bright eyes, he turned to Bateman.
"How did you show up here? Gee, I am delighted to see you. Sit down, old man. Make yourself at home."
"We can't talk here. Come along to my hotel. I suppose you can get away?"
This he added with some apprehension.
"Of course I can get away. We're not so businesslike as all that in Tahiti." He called out to a Chinese who was standing behind the opposite counter. "Ah-Ling, when the boss comes tell him a friend of mine's just arrived from America and I've gone out to have a drain with him."
"All-light," said the Chinese, with a grin.
Edward slipped on a coat and, putting on his hat, accompanied Bateman out of the store. Bateman attempted to put the matter facetiously.
"I didn't expect to find you selling three and a half yards of rotten cotton to a greasy nigger," he laughed.
"Braunschmidt fired me, you know, and I thought that would do as well as anything else."
Edward's candour seemed to Bateman very surprising, but he thought it indiscreet to pursue the subject.
"I guess you won't make a fortune where you are," he answered, somewhat dryly.
"I guess not. But I earn enough to keep body and soul together, and I'm quite satisfied with that."
"You wouldn't have been two years ago."
"We grow wiser as we grow older," retorted Edward, gaily.
Bateman took a glance at him. Edward was dressed in a suit of shabby white ducks, none too clean, and a large straw hat of native make. He was thinner than he had been, deeply burned by the sun, and he was certainly better looking than ever. But there was something in his appearance that disconcerted Bateman. He walked with a new jauntiness; there was a carelessness in his demeanour, a gaiety about nothing in particular, which Bateman could not precisely blame, but which exceedingly puzzled him.
"I'm blest if I can see what he's got to be so darned cheerful about," he said to himself.
They arrived at the hotel and sat on the terrace. A Chinese boy brought them cocktails. Edward was most anxious to hear all the news of Chicago and bombarded his friend with eager questions. His interest was natural and sincere. But the odd thing was that it seemed equally divided among a multitude of subjects. He was as eager to know how Bateman's father was as what Isabel was doing. He talked of her without a shade of embarrassment, but she might just as well have been his sister as his promised wife; and before Bateman had done analysing the exact meaning of Edward's remarks he found that the conversation had drifted to his own work and the buildings his father had lately erected. He was determined to bring the conversation back to Isabel and was looking for the occasion when he saw Edward wave his hand cordially. A man was advancing towards them on the terrace, but Bateman's back was turned to him and he could not see him.
"Come and sit down," said Edward gaily.
The new-comer approached. He was a very