ducked."

I had come to the last negative and there, with the porthole in exact
imitation of the round brass frame, was the same beautiful face of the
same beautiful girl I'd left in that wondrous dream!

"Sylvia Graham," I cried.

"The devil," Tommy straightened up. "Graham's the chap who owns that
boat! Gates found it out this morning, but how did you know?"

My eyes were glued to the negative.

"They cleared for Key West, Tommy?"

"So Gates said. Has he told you?"

"I haven't seen him since yesterday," I murmured, still unable to look
away from that strip of gelatine which held the image of my world.

"He didn't know anything about it yesterday, either," Tommy announced,
and I felt him regarding me in some slight amusement, as though he
thought I had a secret up my sleeve that I was trying to keep from him.
"What's the cute little idea, son? I've told you where she cleared for,
now clear me up!"

"Tommy," I let the film swing back and caught him by the shoulders,
"Miss Graham's father carries a photograph like that in the inside
pocket of a white flannel coat which hangs behind his stateroom door!"

He looked me up and down, this time more seriously, and murmured:

"Whiz-bang!--but you must have been heroically decorated last night!
Still, I can't see that it hurt you much, for you look about twice as
fit as when we left Miami."

"I'll bet I didn't drink an ounce more than you, or Monsieur," I
declared. "The facts of the matter are, Tommy, that there's a lot mighty
curious about this picture!"

"Really?" he grinned. "You go below and take something with a dash of
bitters in it."

"Dry up," I snapped. "I tell you I'm going to catch up with that yacht
if we have to follow her around the world!"

He gave a low whistle, saying with good-natured tolerance:

"Looks like the big adventure's on the wing, doesn't it! Well, I don't
mind chasing the old tub, or doing any other damphule thing in reason,
but what's the game? Put me next! When was this earthquake that loosened
all your little rivets? Speak up, son--I'm your _padre_!"

"It's hard to explain," I turned again to the negative, feeling too
serious for his asinine humor. "But I'll honestly try to before night.
This girl needs me. I don't know why or how, but she does. What's more,
I'm going to find her. It's the most unheard-of situation, old man."

"I'd be ashamed to belittle a situation like this by the mere term
'unheard-of,'" he now laughed out