a round of drinks that a fat wallet might be located.

Presently one that filled him with longing rewarded his

careful watch. The man was sitting at a table a short distance

from Billy. Two other men were with him. As he

paid the waiter from a well-filled pocketbook he looked up to

meet Billy's eyes upon him.

With a drunken smile he beckoned to the mucker to join

them. Billy felt that Fate was overkind to him, and he lost

no time in heeding her call. A moment later he was sitting

at the table with the three sailors, and had ordered a drop

of red-eye.

The stranger was very lavish in his entertainment. He

scarcely waited for Billy to drain one glass before he ordered

another, and once after Billy had left the table for a moment

he found a fresh drink awaiting him when he returned--his

host had already poured it for him.

It was this last drink that did the business.

CHAPTER II

SHANGHAIED

WHEN Billy opened his eyes again he could not recall, for

the instant, very much of his recent past. At last he remembered

with painful regret the drunken sailor it had been his

intention to roll. He felt deeply chagrined that his rightful

prey should have escaped him. He couldn't understand how

it had happened.

"This Frisco booze must be something fierce," thought

Billy.

His head ached frightfully and he was very sick. So sick

that the room in which he lay seemed to be rising and falling

in a horribly realistic manner. Every time it dropped it

brought Billy's stomach nearly to his mouth.

Billy shut his eyes. Still the awful sensation. Billy groaned.

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