Publisher's Synopsis
It was late afternoon, on a certain grey and dismal day, toward the latter part of February, that two men happened to encounter each other, after a long interval, upon the steps of the Migrants' Club. The one-a tall, well-built, and exceedingly handsome man, with blond curly hair, and beard and moustache to match-was entering the building; while the other-a much shorter and stouter figure, with a cast of features which rendered his German origin unmistakable-was standing upon the top step, puffing at a cigar, as he leisurely drew on his gloves preparatory to his emergence upon the street.
