groaned. "Write a letter to yourself."

"I'll write a line to you," the young man suggested soothingly.

He attacked his task very much as a child trying to spell out "The
Bluebells of Scotland" on a piano with one finger. In a few minutes,
with an air of pride, he drew out the sheet and passed it to his
companion. Jacob stretched out a feeble hand and read listlessly.

Dear Mr. Pratt,

I believe that a couple of dry Martini cocktails would do
us both good.

Faithfully yours,
Felixstowe.
Sec. (Very sec!)

A weak smile parted Jacob's lips and he grunted assent. Felixstowe
exchanged cabalistic signs with the deck steward, and in due course
the latter appeared with a couple of glasses filled with frosted
amber liquid. Jacob hesitated for a moment doubtfully.

"Try mental suggestion," the young man advised, looking lovingly at
his glass. "Put it where the cat can't get it and say to yourself,
'This is going to do me good.' Cheerio!"

Two empty glasses were replaced upon the tray. Jacob raised himself a
little in his chair.

"I believe I feel better already," he announced.

"Won't know yourself in an hour's time," his companion assured him. "I
shall give you a pint of champagne and a sandwich at twelve o'clock,
and you'll be taking me on at shuffleboard after lunch. Hullo, another
wireless!"

"Read it for me," Jacob directed.

The young man tore open the envelope and read out the message:

Brother's condition unchanged. Your presence urgently
needed. Will meet New York. Morse, Secretary.

"Poor old Sam!" Jacob murmured.

"He'll pull through, if he's got your constitution," Felixstowe
observed cheerfully. "I've never seen you under the weather yet."

"That's because I take care of myself," Jacob said a little severely.

"Great Caesar's ghost! Hi!"

The young secretary was sitting bolt upright in his chair. A man and
a woman, passing along the deck, turned in surprise at the challenge.
The surprise speedily became amazement, and the amazement universal.

"Sybil Bultiwell!" Jacob gasped, forgetting all about his seasickness.

"Maurice Penhaven!" Felixstowe exclaimed. "What in the name of thunder
are you two doing here together?"

Sybil, being a woman, was the first to recover herself. She laughed
softly.

"We do seem to come across one another in strange places and under
strange conditions, don't we?