He had not walked a hundred feet when his attention was called to the figure of a gentleman walking some rods in front of him. He saw it but indistinctly, and would not have given it a second thought had he not seen that the person, whoever he might be, was stealthily followed by a man who in general appearance resembled the rascal who had robbed him of his money. The pursuer carried in his hand a canvas bag filled with sand. This, though Joe did not know it, was a dangerous weapon in the hands of a lawless human. Brought down heavily upon the head of an unlucky traveler, it often produced instant death, without leaving any outward marks that would indicate death from violence.

Though Joe didn't comprehend the use of the sand-bag, his own recent experience and the stealthy movement of the man behind convinced him that mischief was intended. He would have been excusable if, being but a boy and no match for an able-bodied ruffian, he had got out of the way. But Joe had more courage than falls to the share of most boys of sixteen. He felt a chivalrous desire to rescue the unsuspecting stranger from the peril that menaced him.

Joe, too, imitating the stealthy motion of the pursuer, swiftly gained upon him, overtaking him just as he had the sand-bag poised aloft, ready to be brought down upon the head of the traveler.

With a cry, Joe rushed upon the would-be assassin, causing him to stumble and fall, while the gentleman in front turned round in amazement.

Joe sprang to his side.

"Have you a pistol?" he said quickly.

Scarcely knowing what he did, the gentleman drew out a pistol and put it in Joe's hand. Joe cocked it, and stood facing the ruffian.

The desperado was on his feet, fury in his looks and a curse upon his lips. He swung the sand-bag aloft.

"Curse you!" he said. "I'll make you pay for this!"

"One step forward," said Joe, in a clear, distinct voice, which betrayed not a particle of fear, "and I will put a bullet through your brain!"

The assassin stepped back. He was a coward, who attacked from behind. He looked in the boy's resolute face, and he saw he was in earnest.

"Put down that weapon, you whipper-snapper!"

"Not much!" answered Joe.

"I've a great mind to kill you!"

"I've no doubt of it," said our hero; "but you'd better not attack me. I am armed, and I will fire if you make it necessary. Now, turn round and leave us."

"Will you promise not to shoot?"

"Yes, if you go off quietly."

The order was obeyed, but not very willingly.

When the highwayman had moved off, Joe said:

"Now, sir, we'd better be moving, and pretty quickly, or the fellow may return, with some of his friends, and overpower us. Where are you stopping?"

"At the Waverly House."

"That is near-by. We will go there at once."

They soon reached the hotel, a large wooden building on the north side of Pacific Street.

Joe was about to bid his acquaintance good night but the latter detained him.

"Come in, my boy," he said. "You have done me a great service. I must know more of you."

CHAPTER XVI

JOE'S NEW FRIEND

"Come up to my room," said the stranger.

He obtained a candle at the office, gas not being used in San Francisco at that time, and led the way to a small chamber on the second floor.

"Now, sit down, my boy, and tell me your name."

"Joseph Mason."

"How long have you been here?"

"Less than a week."

"I only arrived yesterday. But for your help, my residence might have been a brief one."

"I am glad I have been able to be of service to you."

"You were a friend in need, and a friend in need is a friend indeed.

It is only fair that I should be a friend to you. It's a poor rule that doesn't work both ways."

Joe was favorably impressed with the speaker's appearance. He was a man of middle height, rather stout, with a florid complexion, and an open, friendly face.

"Thank you, sir," he said, "I need a friend, and shall be glad of your friendship."

"Then here's my hand. Take it, and let us ratify our friendship."

Joe took the proffered hand and shook it cordially.

"My name is George Morgan," said the stranger. "I came from Philadelphia. Now we know each other. Where are you staying?"

Joe's face flushed and he looked embarrassed.

"Just before I came up with you," he answered, thinking frankness best, "I was robbed of two dollars and a half, all the money I had in this world. I shall have to stop in the streets to-night."

"Not if I know it," said Morgan emphatically. "This bed isn't very large, but you are welcome to a share of it. To-morrow we will form our plans."

"Shan't I inconvenience you, sir?" asked Joe.

"Not a bit," answered Morgan heartily.

"Then I will stay, sir, and thank you. After the adventure I have had to-night, I shouldn't enjoy being out in the streets."

"Tell me how you came to be robbed. Was it by the same man who made the attack upon me?"

"No, sir. I wish it had been, as then I should feel even with him.

It was a man that looked very much like him, though."