against shore where it's still night."

As the schooner swung slowly under way, his voice rose, gay as a
boy's:--

"Come on, you rice-fed admirals!" He made an improper gesture, his
profile and outspread fingers showing in the glow-worm light of the
binnacle. "If they follow us through by the Verdronken Rozengain, we'll
show them one piece 'e navigation. Can do, eh? These old iron-clad junks
are something a man knows how to deal with."

MISS JUNO

BY

CHARLES WARREN STODDARD

_Copyright_, 1903, by A. M. Robertson Reprinted from FOR THE PLEASURE OF
HIS COMPANY

I

THERE was an episode in the life of Paul Clitheroe that may possibly
throw some little light upon the mystery of his taking off; and in
connection with this matter it is perhaps worth detailing.

One morning Paul found a drop-letter in the mail which greeted him
daily. It ran as follows:

DEAR OLD BOY:

Don't forget the reception tomorrow. Some one will be here whom I
wish you to know.

Most affectionately,

HARRY ENGLISH.

The "tomorrow" referred to was the very day on which Paul received the
sweet reminder. The reception of the message somewhat disturbed his
customary routine. To be sure, he glanced through the morning journal as
usual; repaired to the Greek chop-house with the dingy green walls, the
smoked ceiling, the glass partition that separated the guests from a
kitchen lined with shining copper pans, where a cook in a white paper
cap wafted himself about in clouds of vapor, lit by occasional flashes
of light and ever curling flames, like a soul expiating its sins in a
prescribed but savory purgatory. He sat in his chosen seat, ignored his
neighbors with his customary nonchalance, and returned to his room, as
if nothing were about to happen. But he accomplished little, for he felt
that the day was not wholly his; so slight a cause seemed to change the
whole current of his life from hour to hour.

In due season Paul entered a street car which ran to the extreme limit
of San Francisco. Harry English lived not far from the terminus, and to
the cozy home of this most genial and hospitable gentleman the youth
wended his way. The house stood upon the steep slope of a hill; the
parlor was upon a level with the street,--a basement dining-room below
it,--but the rear of the house was quite in the air and all of the rear
windows commanded a magnificent view of the North Bay with its islands
and the opposite m