The policeman on the beat moved up the avenueimpressively. The impressiveness was habitual and notfor show， for spectators were few. The time was barely 10o’clock at night， but chilly gusts of wind with a taste ofrain in them had well nigh de-peopled the streets.
Trying doors as he went， twirling his club with manyintricate and artful movements， turning now and then tocast his watchful eye adown the pacific thoroughfare， theofficer， with his stalwart form and slight swagger， made afine picture of a guardian of the peace. The vicinity wasone that kept early hours. Now and then you might seethe lights of a cigar store or of an all-night lunch counter；but the majority of the doors belonged to business placesthat had long since been closed.
When about midway of a certain block the policemansuddenly slowed his walk. In the doorway of a darkenedhardware store a man leaned， with an unlighted cigar in hismouth. As the policeman walked up to him the man spokeup quickly.
“It’s all right， officer，” he said， reassuringly. “I’m justwaiting for a friend. It’s an appointment made twentyyears ago. Sounds a little funny to you， doesn’t it？ Well， I’llexplain if you’d like to make certain it’s all straight. Aboutthat long ago there used to be a restaurant where thisstore stands— ‘Big Joe’ Brady’s restaurant.”
“Until five years ago，” said the policeman. “It was torndown then.”
The man in the doorway struck a match and lit his cigar.
The light showed a pale， square-jawed face with keen eyes，and a little white scar near his right eyebrow. His scarfpingwas a large diamond， oddly set.
“Twenty years ago to-night，” said the man， “I dinedhere at ‘Big Joe’ Brady’s with Jimmy Wells， my best chum，and the finest chap in the world. He and I were raisedhere in New York， just like two brothers， together. I waseighteen and Jimmy was twenty. The next morning I wasto start for the West to make my fortune. You couldn’thave dragged Jimmy out of New York； he thought it wasthe only place on earth. Well， we agreed that night that wewould meet here again exactly twenty years from that dateand time， no matter what our conditions might be or fromwhat distance we might have to come. We figured that intwenty years each of us ought to have our destiny workedout and our fortunes made， whatever they were going tobe.”
“It sounds pretty interesting，” said the policeman. “Rathera long time between meets， though， it seems to me. Haven’tyou heard from your friend since you left？”
“Well， yes， for a time we corresponded，” said the other.
“But after a year or two we lost track of each other. Yousee， the West is a pretty big proposition， and I kepthustling around over it pretty lively. But I know Jimmy willmeet me here if he’s alive， for he always was the truest，stanchest old chap in the world. He’ll never forget. I camea thousand miles to stand in this door to-night， and it’sworth it if my old partner turns up.”
The waiting man pulled out a handsome watch， the lidsof it set with small diamonds.
“Three minutes to ten，” he announced. “It was exactlyten o’clock when we parted here at the restaurant door.”
“Did pretty well out West， didn’t you？” asked thepoliceman.
