n.

Six bells sounded in the pause that followed and the girl sat up
suddenly with a little cry of mock dismay.

"Eleven o'clock! Good Heavens, I mustn't loaf another minute! I've all
my packing to do."

She was up and standing before Staff could offer to assist her. But she
paused long enough to slip a hand into his.

"Good night, Mr. Staff; and thank you for volunteering to help me."

"I shan't forget," he promised. "Good night."

He remained momentarily where she left him, following with his gaze her
tall and slender yet well-proportioned figure as it moved along the
moonlit deck, swaying gracefully to the long, smooth, almost
imperceptible motion of the ship.

He wore just then a curious expression: his eyes wondering, his brows
puckered, his thin lips shaping into their queer, twisted smile....
Funny (he found it) that a fellow could feel so comfortable and content
in the company of a woman he didn't care a rap about, so ill at ease and
out of sorts when with the mistress of his dreams! It didn't, somehow,
seem just right....

With a dubious grimace, he went aft. Iff, however, wasn't in the
smoking-room. Neither was he anywhere else that Staff could discover in
his somewhat aimless wanderings. And he found his stateroom unoccupied
when at length he decided to turn in.

"Sleuthing," was the word with which he accounted for the little man's
invisibility, as he dropped off to sleep.

If he were right, Iff was early on the job. When the bath-steward's
knock brought Staff out of his berth the next morning, his companion of
the voyage was already up and about; his empty berth showed that it had
been slept in, but its occupant had disappeared with his clothing; and
even his luggage (he travelled light, with a kit-bag and a suit-case for
all impedimenta) had been packed and strapped, ready to go ashore.

"Conscientious," commented the playwright privately. "Wonder if he's
really on the track of anything?"

Idle speculation, however, was suddenly drowned in delight when, his
sleep-numb faculties clearing, he realised that the Autocratic was
resting without way, and a glance out of the stateroom port showed him
the steep green slopes of Fort Tompkins glistening in new sunlight.

Home! He choked back a yell of joy, and raced to his bath. Within twenty
minutes, bathed, clothed and sane, he was on deck.

By now, having taken on the health officers, the great vessel was in
motion again, standing majestically up