pper Simms.

"I'm a-tellin' you, man," he was saying, "that there wan't nothin' else
to be done, an' I'm a-gettin' damn sick o' hearin' you finding fault all
the time with the way I been a-runnin' o' this little job."

"I'm not finding fault, Simms," returned another voice which the girl
recognized immediately as Divine's; "although I do think that it was a
mistake to so totally disable the Lotus as you did. Why, how on earth
are we ever to return to civilization if that boat is lost? Had she been
simply damaged a little, in a way that they could themselves have fixed
up, the delay would have been sufficient to permit us to escape, and
then, when Miss Harding was returned in safety to her father, after our
marriage, they would have been so glad to be reunited that he easily
could have been persuaded to drop the matter. Then another thing; you
intended to demand a ransom for both Miss Harding and myself, to carry
out the fiction of my having been stolen also--how can you do that if
Mr. Harding be dead? And do you suppose for a moment that Miss Harding
will leave a single stone unturned to bring the guilty to justice if any
harm has befallen her father or his guests? If so you do not know her as
well as I."

The girl turned away from the partition, her face white and drawn, her
eyes inexpressibly sad. She rose to her feet, facing Theriere.

"I have heard quite enough, thank you, Mr. Theriere," she said.

"You are convinced then that I am your friend?" he asked.

"I am convinced that Mr. Divine is not," she replied non-committally.

She took a step toward the door. Theriere stood looking at her. She was
unquestionably very good to look at. He could not remember ever having
seen a more beautiful girl. A great desire to seize her in his arms
swept over the man. Theriere had not often made any effort to harness
his desires. What he wanted it had been his custom to take--by force
if necessary. He took a step toward Barbara Harding. There was a sudden
light in his eyes that the girl had not before seen there, and she
reached quickly toward the knob of the door.

Theriere was upon her, and then, quickly, he mastered himself, for he
recalled his coolly thought-out plan based on what Divine had told him
of that clause in the will of the girl's departed grandparent which
stipulated that the man who shared the bequest with her must be the
choice of both herself and her father. He could afford to bide his time,
and play the c