idnight."

Mr. Cleve grinned.

"Always looking for sure-thing bets! Better hail that bumboat with the
vegetables to row you into town. The old man'll dump you over by hand if
he finds you here between now and sundown."

"I'll try the launch there. Tell the lad his fare ain't goin' back to
Shanghai. Of course it makes it a bit inconvenient, packing and unpacking;
but I guess I can live through it. But what about the woman?"

Cleve plucked at his chin.

"Messes up the show a bit. Pippin, though. I like 'em when they walk
straight and look straight like this one. Notice her hair? You never tame
that sort beyond parlour manners. But I don't like her on board here, or
the young fellow, either. Don't know him, but he's likely to bust the
yacht wide open if he gets loose."

"Well, so long, Mary! Know what my first move'll be?"

"A bottle somewhere. But mind your step! Don't monkey with the stuff
beyond normal. You know what I mean."

"Sure! Only a peg or two, after all this psalm-singing!"

"I know, Flint. But this game is no joke. You know what happened in town?
Morrissy was near croaked."

Flint's face lost some of its gayety.

"Oh, I know how to handle the stuff! See you later."

* * * * *

Cleigh decided to see what the girl's temper was, so he entered the
passage on the full soles of his shoes. He knocked on her door.

"Miss Norman?"

"Well?"

That was a good sign; she was ready to talk.

"I have come to repeat that offer."

"Mr. Cleigh, I have nothing to say so long as the key is on the wrong side
of the door."

Cleigh heard a chuckle from Cabin Two.

"Very well," he said. "Remember, I offered you liberty conditionally. If
you suffer inconveniences after to-night you will have only yourself to
thank."

"Have you calculated that some day you will have to let me go?"

"Yes, I have calculated on that."

"And that I shall go to the nearest authorities and report this action?"

"If you will think a moment," said Cleigh, his tone monotonously level,
"you will dismiss that plan for two reasons: First, that no one will
believe you; second, that no one will want to believe you. That's as near
as I care to put it. Your imagination will grasp it."

"Instantly!" cried the girl, hotly. "I knew you to be cold and hard, but I
did not believe you were a scoundrel--having known your son!"

"I have no son."

"Oh, yes, you have!"

"I disowned him. He is absolut