latter said: "Let's get the
cargo ashore first."

Evan wondering what cargo the excursion boat could be carrying, stepped
forward in idle curiosity to look down the hatch. Suddenly he became
aware that the young men were circling behind him. Before he could so
much as turn around, he was seized from each side and a hand clapped
over his mouth. With a concerted rush they swept him into the hole in
the deck, falling on their knees at the edge, and letting him drop in.
He fell on a mattress and was not in the least hurt. From above he
heard a loud guffaw from the deckhands. Then the hatch cover was
clapped down, and he heard heavy objects being piled upon it.

Evan raged silently in his prison. Pride restrained him from making
any outcry. He had no fear that his murder was contemplated. They'd
have to let him out again. In the meantime they'd get no change out of
him. And the future could take care of his revenge.

He was in a small cargo space between two transverse bulkheads. He
could touch the beams over his head. The place was perfectly empty
except for the mattress. The mattress suggested that this had been
carefully planned. It was not dark, being lighted by a fixed porthole
on either side, not much bigger than an orange. These lights were only
a foot or two above the waterline, and when the _Ernestina_ reversed
her engine in making the pier, the water washed up over the glass.

Evan could hear all the sounds attendant upon making a landing; the
casting lines thrown ashore, the hawsers pulled over the deck, the
jingle to the engine room signalling that all was fast. Then the
gangway was run out and the feet poured over it.

Evan found that through the porthole on the pier side he was able to
catch a brief glimpse of the passengers as they stepped ashore. He saw
the children scurry away, never dreaming that the admired story-teller
was immured below. The big girls followed more sedately, and after
them the mothers with backs sagging under the weight of babies. Last
of all he had the unspeakable chagrin of seeing Corinna pass with
Denton grasping her arm.

"That's why I was put down here," he thought. "To allow her to make
her getaway."

In the fraction of a second that she was visible to him, her head was
turned back towards the boat. When a woman glances over her shoulder
her true feelings come out; she cannot help herself. There was anguish
in Corinna's backward look. Evan marked it,