s," encouraged Captain
Parkinson.

"Fire ahead, man," advised Barnett impatiently. "Just begin at the
beginning and let it go at that."

Slade sipped at his glass reflectively.

"Well," said he at length, "the best way to begin is to show you how I
happened to be mixed up in it at all."

The officers unconsciously relaxed into attitudes of greater ease.
Overhead the lamps swayed gently to the swell. The dull throb of the
screw pulsated. Stewards clad in white moved noiselessly, filling the
glasses, deferentially striking lights for the smokers, clearing away the
last dishes of the repast.

"I'm a reporter by choice, and a detective by instinct," began Slade,
with startling abruptness. "Furthermore, I'm pretty well off. I'm what
they call a free lance, for I have no regular desk on any of the
journals. I generally turn my stuff in to the _Star_ because they
treat me well. In return it is pretty well understood between us that I'm
to use my judgment in regard to 'stories' and that they'll stand back of
me for expenses. You see, I've been with them quite a while."

He looked around the circle as though in appeal to the comprehension of
his audience. Some of the men nodded. Others sipped from their glasses or
drew at their cigars.

"I loaf around here and there in the world, having a good time
travelling, visiting, fooling around. Every once in a while something
interests me. The thing is a sort of instinct. I run it down. If it's a
good story, I send it in. That's all there is to it." He laughed
slightly. "You see, I'm a sort of magazine writer in method, but my stuff
is newspaper stuff. Also the game suits me. That's why I play it. That's
why I'm here. I have to tell you about myself this way so you will
understand how I came to be mixed up in this _Laughing Lass_
matter."

"I remember," commented Barnett, "that when you came aboard the _South
Dakota_, you had a little trouble making Captain Arnold see it." He
turned to the others with a laugh. "He had all kinds of papers of ancient
date, but nothing modern--letter from the _Star_ dated five years
back, recommendations to everybody on earth, except Captain Arnold,
certificate of bravery in Apache campaign, bank identifications, and all
the rest. 'Maybe you're the _Star's_ correspondent, and maybe you're
not,' said the Captain, 'I don't see anything here to prove it.' Slade
argued an hour; no go. Remember how you caught him?" he inquired of
Slade.

The reporte