atheist or something like that. Very
profane. Used chewing tobacco."

Mrs. Mumford shudders. "And you were alone with such a desperado, on a
desert island!" she gasps, rollin' her eyes.

"Oh, I can generally look out for myself," says Rupert, tappin' his hip
pocket.

He was fairly beamin', Rupert was, for Mrs. Mumford was not only
lettin' him write his own ticket, but was biddin' his stock above par.
And all the rest of the day he swells around chesty, starin' out at the
ocean as important as if he owned it all.

"At last," says I, "we know the romance of Rupert."

"I hope it doesn't keep me awake nights," says Vee.

"Look at the bold, bad ex-school teacher," says I. "Wonder what
blood-curdlin' mind plays he's indulgin' in now? There! He's
unlimberin' the glasses again."

It must have been about four o'clock, for I remember hearin' eight
bells strike and remarkin' to Vee what a silly way that was to keep
track of time. We was watchin' Rupert go through his
Columbus-discoverin'-Staten-Island motions, and I was workin' up some
josh to hand him, when he comes rushin' back to the wireless room. No,
we didn't stretch our ears intentional, and if we sidled up under the
cabin window it must have been because there was a couple of deck
chairs spread out convenient.

"Isn't that some kind of warship off there?" Captain Killam is
demandin' of Meyers.

"Wait," says the operator, fittin' on his tin ear. "He's just
calling." Then, after listenin' a while, he announces: "He wants to
know who we are."

"Don't answer," orders Killam.

"Oh, all right," says Meyers, and goes on listenin'. Pretty soon,
though, he gives out another bulletin.

"It's the United States gunboat _Petrel_, and he's demanding who and
what. Real snappy this time. Guess I'd better flash it to him, eh?"

"No, no!" says Rupert. "It's no business of his. This is a private
yacht bound for a home port. Let him whistle."

It struck me at the time as a nutty thing to do, but of course I'm no
judge. I had a hunch that Rupert was registerin' importance and
showin' how he was boss of the expedition--something he hadn't a chance
to get over before. It ain't long, though, before Meyers begins
talkin' like he was uneasy.

"He wants to know," says he, "if our wireless is out of commission, and
if it is why we don't run up a signal."

"Bah!" says Rupert. "These naval officers are too nosey. It'll do
this one good if we take no notice of h