, or to
the lines of fate written in the book of life ere ever the foundations of
the world were laid, Michael was scheduled for an adventure that was
profoundly to affect, not alone his own destiny, but the destinies of
Kwaque and Dag Daughtry and determine the very place of their death and
burial.

CHAPTER VI

The adventure that was so to alter the future occurred when Michael, in
no uncertain manner, announced to all and sundry his presence on the
_Makambo_. It was due to Kwaque's carelessness, to commence with, for
Kwaque left the stateroom without tight-closing the door. As the
_Makambo_ rolled on an easy sea the door swung back and forth, remaining
wide open for intervals and banging shut but not banging hard enough to
latch itself.

Michael crossed the high threshold with the innocent intention of
exploring no farther than the immediate vicinity. But scarcely was he
through, when a heavier roll slammed the door and latched it. And
immediately Michael wanted to get back. Obedience was strong in him, for
it was his heart's desire to serve his lord's will, and from the few
days' confinement he sensed, or guessed, or divined, without thinking
about it, that it was Steward's will for him to stay in the stateroom.

For a long time he sat down before the closed door, regarding it
wistfully but being too wise to bark or speak to such inanimate object.
It had been part of his early puppyhood education to learn that only live
things could be moved by plea or threat, and that while things not alive
did move, as the door had moved, they never moved of themselves, and were
deaf to anything life might have to say to them. Occasionally he trotted
down the short cross-hall upon which the stateroom opened, and gazed up
and down the long hall that ran fore and aft.

For the better part of an hour he did this, returning always to the door
that would not open. Then he achieved a definite idea. Since the door
would not open, and since Steward and Kwaque did not return, he would go
in search of them. Once with this concept of action clear in his brain,
without timidities of hesitation and irresolution, he trotted aft down
the long hall. Going around the right angle in which it ended, he
encountered a narrow flight of steps. Among many scents, he recognized
those of Kwaque and Steward and knew they had passed that way.

Up the stairs and on the main deck, he began to meet passengers. Being
white gods, he did