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On the walls, but not crowded, were a nu of honor, all in sad grays, a twilight Mexican scene by Xavier Martinez, of a peon, with a crooked- stick plow and two bullocks, turning a round of a sad, illihter pictures, of early Mexican-Californian life, a pastel of twilight eucalyptus with a sunset-tipped ht by Peters, and a Griffin stubble-field across which gleamed and smoldered California summer hills of tawny brown and purple- misted, wooded canyons

"Say," Thayer muttered in an undertone across to Naisirls were in the thick of excla banter, "here's so House I've seen the servants' dining rooardeners, chauffeurs, and outside help It's a boarding house in itself Some head, some system, take it from me That Chiney boy, Oh Joy, is a wooz He's housekeeper, or , or whatever you want to call his job--and, say, it runs that smooth you can't hear it"

"Forrest's the real wooz," Naismith nodded "He's the brains that picks brains He could run an ar circus"

"Which last is some compliment," Thayer concurred heartily

"Oh, Paula," Dick said across to his wife "I just got word that Graha Better tell Oh Joy to put him in the watch-tower It's man-size quarters, and it's possible he may carry out his threat and work on his book"

"Graham?--Graham?" Paula queried aloud of her o, in Santiago, at the Café Venus He had dinner with us"

"Oh, one of those naval officers?"

Dick shook his head

"The civilian Don't you re blond fellow--you talked music with him for half an hour while Captain Joyce talked our heads off to prove that the United States should clean Mexico up and out with the uely recollected "He'd met you somewhere before South Africa, wasn't it? Or the Philippines?"

"That's the chap South Africa, it was Evan Graham Next time we met was on the Times dispatch boat on the Yellow Sea And we crossed trails a dozen tiht in the Café Venus