" "I am here in Canton," she replied, simply. He was the beachcomber, or the old sailor with the black pearl (Ruth's tales), or the wastrel musician McClintock had described to him. Just as Jack got half way down the stairs, and Wild and the Jew reached the upper landing, the street-door was opened by Langley and Ireton, the latter of whom carried a lantern. She had found a couple of articles about him over the years, blurbs about the opening of a theater that mentioned him. But the love of life prevailed over his fears. He could neither stifle nor deaden that. Spurlock was invariably at the high desk in the early morning, poring over ledgers, and giving the beach and the stores an occasional glance.
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