pause at the doorway, almost beside the beggar, and the two were quite alone. The whining voice went on whining, then pronounced a single word "Zack"—the beggar spoke it quite distinctly—"Zack" and Old Reliable heard. Lykoff saw the black man jump as if one had called him from the tomb; he whirled to run, then glanced down. The beggar's hand stretched up towards him: "Zack"—that single word again, low, but distinct, unmistakable.
"Who dat know me so good?"
Zack observed the beggar's left hand sneaking from beneath its dirty rags, and saw the glitter of gold. "Huh!" Zack grunted to himself: "dese sho is funny folks."
For a moment Old Reliable gazed down curiously at the money, then a half-forgotten recollection stirred within him. "Dar now! dat white man—on de steamboat!" He rummaged hastily through his pockets, fished out the capsule, and held it in his fingers. Lykoff was talking with Gargarin; Lykoff saw everything, yet spilled not a drop of the liqueur as he poured.
"What dat you say?" Zack leaned closer and asked the beggar again.
"Zack," repeated the beggar; but ten gold pieces were assurance enough. Zack reached for the coins. The beggar's long lean fingers clinched upon his gold; the hand was sinewy, with fingers
