You stick out for that at first, anyhow." McTeague unhooked the cage and carefully wrapped it in an old newspaper, remarking, "He might get cold.

Well, so long," he repeated, "so long." "Good-by, Mac." When he was gone, Trina took the sixty cents she had stolen from him out of her pocket and recounted it.

"It's sixty cents, all right," she said proudly.

"But I DO believe that dime is too smooth." She looked at it critically.

The clock on the power-house of the Sutter Street cable struck eight.