sider me neutral."

Cleigh rose abruptly and stalked from the salon.

Cunningham lurched and twisted to the forward passage and disappeared.

When next Jane saw him in the light he was bloody and terrible.

CHAPTER XX

Jane and Dennison were alone. "I wonder," he said, "are we two awake, or
are we having the same nightmare?"

"The way he hugs his word! Imagine a man stepping boldly and mockingly
outside the pale, and carrying along his word unsullied with him! He's
mad, Denny, absolutely mad! The poor thing!"

That phrase seemed to liberate something in his mind. The brooding
oppression lifted its siege. His heart was no longer a torture chamber.

"I ought to be his partner, Jane. I'm as big a fool as he is. Who but a
fool would plan and execute a game such as this? But he's sound on one
point. It's a colossal joke."

"But your father?"

"Cunningham will have to dig a pretty deep hole somewhere if he expects to
hide successfully. It's a hundred-to-one shot that father will never see
his rug again. He probably realizes that, and he will be relentless. He'll
coal at Manila and turn back. He'll double or triple the new crew's wages.
Money will mean nothing if he starts after Cunningham. Of course I'll be
out of the picture at Manila."

"Do you know why your father kidnaped me so easily? I thought maybe I
could find a chink in his armour and bring you two together."

"And you've found the job hopeless!" Dennison shrugged.

"Won't you tell me what the cause was?"

"Ask him. He'll tell it better than I can. So you hid the beads in that
hand-warmer! Not half bad. But why don't you take the sixty thousand?"

"I've an old-fashioned conscience."

"I don't mean Father's gold, but the French Government's. Comfort as long
as you lived."

"No, I could not touch even that money. The beads were stolen."

"Lord, Lord! Then there are three of us--Cunningham, myself, and you!"

"Are you calling me a tomfool?"

"Not exactly. What's the feminine?"

She laughed and rose.

"You are almost human to-night."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to have a little talk with your father."

"Good luck. I'm going to have a fresh pot of coffee. I shall want to keep
awake to-night."

"Why?"

"Oh, just an idea. You'd better turn in when the interview is over. Good
luck."

Jane stood framed in the doorway for a moment. Under the reading lamp in
the main salon she saw Cleigh. He was running the beads from hand to