gh
decently. Nevertheless, hereafter he would sleep on the lounge in the
main salon. If any tried to force the dry-stores door he would be likely
to hear it.

At eleven o'clock the following morning there occurred an episode which
considerably dampened Jane's romantical point of view regarding this
remarkable voyage. Cleigh had gone below for some illuminated manuscripts
and Dennison was out of sight for the moment. She leaned over the rail and
watched the flying fish. Suddenly out of nowhere came the odour of
whisky.

"You ought to take a trip up to the cutwater at night and see the flying
fish in the phosphorescence."

She did not stir. Instinctively she knew who the owner of this voice would
be--the man Cunningham called Flint. A minute--an unbearable
minute--passed.

"Oh! Too haughty to be a good fellow, huh?"

Footsteps, a rush of wind, a scuffling, and an oath brought her head
about. She saw Flint go balancing and stumbling backward, finally to sprawl
on his hands and knees, and following him, in an unmistakable attitude,
was Dennison. Jane was beginning to understand these Cleighs; their rage
was terrible because it was always cold.

"Denny!" she called.

But Dennison continued on toward Flint.

CHAPTER XV

Flint was a powerful man, or had been. The surprise of the attack over, he
jumped to his feet, and blazing with murderous fury rushed Dennison. Jane
saw a tangle of arms, and out of this tangle came a picture that would
always remain vivid--Flint practically dangling at the end of Dennison's
right arm. The rogue tore and heaved and kicked and struck, but futilely,
because his reach was shorter. Dennison let go unexpectedly.

"Listen to me, you filthy beachcomber! If you ever dare speak to Miss
Norman again or come within ten feet of her I'll kill you with bare hands!
There are no guns on board this yacht--bare hands. Now go back to your
master and say that I'd like to do the same to him."

Flint, his hands touching his throat with inquiring solicitude--Flint eyed
Dennison with that mixture of pain and astonishment that marks the face of
a man who has been grossly deceived. Slowly he revolved on his shaking
legs and staggered forward, shortly to disappear round the deck house.

"Oh, Denny, you've done a foolish thing! You've shamed that man before me
and put murder in his heart. It isn't as if we were running the yacht. We
are prisoners of that man and his fellows. It would have been enou