lamp. Was the stranger a shipmaster who had suddenly transferred himself
to another vessel on another voyage? A crowd which had gathered around
some landing steps nearer shore presently attracted his attention. He
lounged toward it and looked over the shoulders of the bystanders down
upon the steps. A boat was lying there, which had just towed in the body
of a man found floating on the water. Its features were already
swollen and defaced like a hideous mask; its body distended beyond all
proportion, even to the bursting of its sodden clothing. A tremulous
fascination came over Randolph as he gazed. The bystanders made their
brief comments, a few authoritatively and with the air of nautical
experts.
"Been in the water about a week, I reckon."
"'Bout that time; just rucked up and floated with the tide."
"Not much chance o' spottin' him by his looks, eh?"
"Nor anything else, you bet. Reg'larly cleaned out. Look at his
pockets."
"Wharf-rats or shanghai men?"
"Betwixt and between, I reckon. Man who found him says he's got an ugly
cut just back of his head. Ye can't see it for his floating hair."
"Wonder if he got it before or after he got in the water."
"That's for the coroner to say."
"Much he knows or cares," said another cynically. "It'll just be a case
of 'Found drowned' and the regular twenty-five dollars to HIM, and five
to the man who found the body. That's enough for him to know."
Thrilled with a vague anxiety, Randolph edged forward for a nearer view
of the wretched derelict still gently undulating on the towline. The
closer he looked the more he was impressed by the idea of some frightful
mask that hid a face that refused to be recognized. But his attention
became fixed on a man who was giving some advice or orders and examining
the body scrutinizingly. Without knowing why, Randolph felt a sudden
aversion to him, which was deepened when the man, lifting his head, met
Randolph's eyes with a pair of shifting yet aggressive ones. He bore,
nevertheless, an odd, weird likeness to the missing man Randolph was
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