r life began to feel the need of a
chaperon.

"Funny to think of him hunting for me high and low while I am sitting
here," said the skipper.

Miss Pilbeam agreed with him, and began to laugh--to laugh so heartily
that he was fain at last to draw his chair close to hers and pat her
somewhat anxiously on the back. The treatment sobered her at once, and
she drew apart and eyed him coldly.

"I was afraid you would lose your breath," explained the skipper,
awkwardly. "You are not angry, are you?"

He was so genuinely relieved when she said, "No," that Miss Pilbeam,
despite her father's wrongs, began to soften a little. The upsetter of
policemen was certainly good-looking; and his manner towards her so
nicely balanced between boldness and timidity that a slight feeling of
sadness at his lack of moral character began to assail her.

"Suppose you are caught after all?" she said, presently. "You will go to
prison."

The skipper shrugged his shoulders. "I don't suppose I shall be," he
replied.

"Aren't you sorry?" persisted Miss Pilbeam, in a vibrant voice.

"Certainly not," said the skipper. "Why, I shouldn't have seen you if I
hadn't done it."

Miss Pilbeam looked at the clock and pondered. It wanted but five
minutes to nine. Five minutes in which to make up a mind that was in a
state of strong unrest.

"I suppose it is time for me to go," said the skipper, watching her.
Miss Pilbeam rose. "No, don't go," she said, hastily. "Do be quiet.
I want to think."

Captain Bligh waited in respectful silence, heedless of the fateful
seconds ticking from the mantelpiece. At the sound of a slow, measured
footfall on the cobblestone path outside Miss Pilbeam caught his arm and
drew him towards the door.

"Go!" she breathed. "No, stop!"

She stood trying in vain to make up her mind. "Upstairs," she said.
"Quick!" and, leading the way, entered her father's bedroom, and, after a
moment's thought, opened the door of a cupboard in the corner.

"Get in there," she whispered.

"But--" objected the astonished Bligh.

The front door was heard to open.

"Police!" said Miss Pilbeam, in a thrilling whisper. The skipper stepped
into the cupboard without further parley, and the girl, turning the key,
slipped it into her pocket and sped downstairs.

Sergeant Pilbeam was in the easy-chair, with his belt unfastened, when
she entered the parlor, and, with a hungry reference to supper, sat
watching her as she lit the lam