are quite fair, Mr. Rainey," the girl answered. "To
me, I mean. I will give you _my_ word that I knew nothing of this. I--"
She suddenly widened her eyes and stared at him. "Then--my father--he?"

Rainey felt a twinge of compassion.

"He was there when it happened," he said. "But I don't know that he had
anything to do with it. Mr. Carlsen may have convinced him it was the
only thing to do. He seems to have considerable influence with your
father."

[Illustration: "The same gentleman who put chloral in my drink"]

"He has. He--Mr. Rainey, I have begged your pardon once; I do so again.
Won't you accept it? Perhaps, later, we can talk this matter out. I am
upset. But--you'll accept the apology, and believe me?"

She put out her hand across the table and Rainey gripped it.

"We'll be friends?" she asked. "I need a friend aboard the _Karluk_, Mr.
Rainey."

He experienced a revulsion of feeling toward her. She was undoubtedly
plucky, he thought; she would stand up to her guns, but she suddenly
looked very tired, a pathetic figure that summoned his chivalry.

"Why, surely," he said.

They relinquished hands slowly, and again Rainey felt something more
than her mere grasp lingering, a slight tingling that warmed him to
smile at her in a manner that brought a little color back to her cheeks.

"Thank you," she said.

He watched her close the door of her cabin behind her before he
remembered that she had not denied that she was to marry Carlsen. But he
shrugged his shoulders as he started to smoke. At any rate, he told
himself, she knows what kind of a chap he is--in what he calls business.

Presently he thought he heard her softly sobbing in her room, and he got
up and paced the cabin, not entirely pleased with himself.

"I was a bit of a cad the way I went at her," he thought, "but that chap
Carlsen sticks in my gorge. How any decent girl could think of mating up
with him is beyond me--unless--by gad, I'll bet he's working through her
father to pull it off! For the gold! If he's in love with her he's got a
damned queer way of not showing it."

The door from the galley corridor opened, and a head was poked in
cautiously. Then Sandy came into the cabin.

"Beg pardon, Mister Rainey, sir," said the roustabout, "I was through
with the dishes. I wanted to have a talk with yer." His pop-eyes roamed
about the cabin doubtfully.

"Come in here," said Rainey, and ushered Sandy into his own quarters.

"Now, then,"