nded
by prejudice. No one would believe, no one, what I have to put up with.
Not a soul on the ship who shows the faintest glimmer of gratitude." And
Captain Rannie was suddenly silent.

"That's what we'll do," said Mr. Dainopoulos in a loud, sympathetic
voice, "and I'll see if I can't get you a better anchorage. This
afternoon I expect I'll have a lighter for you. How will that do,
Captain?"

"I expect nothing, and I'll not be disappointed," replied the captain.
"My experience leads me to expect things when I get them. If anything
has happened on board since I left, don't blame me. I give you full
warning. The man is not to be trusted. I have difficulty in keeping my
hands off him. I only refrain as a matter of dignity. I would not soil
my hands with such--such riff-raff. I hope I am not misunderstood.
There's a limit to human endurance, that's all."

"I know how it is, Captain. Don't you worry. Only, you know as well as I
do he was the only man I could get at the time."

"I make no charges," said Captain Rannie, suddenly rising to some six
feet two, to Mr. Spokesly's intense astonishment. "I hope I am above
that sort of thing. But, I must really say, things could be managed
better if more attention was paid to the express wishes of the master of
the vessel." And without looking up or indicating in any way that he was
conscious of their presence, Captain Rannie walked away and disappeared
into the Place de la Liberte.

Mr. Dainopoulos looked after him for a moment with an expression of
perplexity on his marred features and then sat down.

"What's the matter with him?" inquired Mr. Spokesly, very much
interested. "Is he touched at all?"

"No, he's all right. Only he grumble grumble too much," said Mr.
Dainopoulos scratching his chin philosophically.

"I should think he does if he's always like that. What is his job
worth?"

"Seven hundred drachma a month I pay him, and he says it's not enough."

"That so? Hm!" Mr. Spokesly was thinking. "That's about thirty pound a
month. And I suppose he finds the ship." Mr. Dainopoulos nodded.

"Fifteen hundred drachma a month for that, and he says he lose money on
the job."

Mr. Spokesly was looking down at the floor, flicking the ash from a
cigarette, and he did not see the sudden wide-open stare Dainopoulos
fixed upon him, as though beholding him in a new aspect.

"Why, think of it. Here you are, without a ship!" he exclaimed.

"No doubt about that," muttered Mr.