We'll be the suckers, eh, just you an' me, an' love to." * * * * * The Barbary Coast of San Francisco, once the old-time sailor-town in the days when San Francisco was reckoned the toughest port of the Seven Seas, had evolved with the city until it depended for at least half of its earnings on the slumming parties that visited it and spent liberally.

It was quite the custom, after dinner, for many of the better classes of society, especially when entertaining curious Easterners, to spend an hour or several in motoring from dance-hall to dance-hall and cheap cabaret to cheap cabaret.

In short, the "Coast" was as much a sight-seeing place as was Chinatown and the Cliff House.
It was not long before Dag Daughtry was getting his twenty dollars a night for two twenty-minute turns, and was declining more beer than a dozen men with thirsts equal to his could have accommodated.

Never had he been so prosperous; nor can it be denied that Michael enjoyed it.
Enjoy it he did, but principally for Steward's sake.

He was serving Steward, and so to serve was his highest heart's desire.
In truth, Michael was the bread-winner for quite a family, each member of which fared well.