but faintly lighted,
and would pass for some pleasure craft just coming home. But Jim knew
better. He could, at last, put two and two together. He would follow
the Face--indeed, he could not help following it. In him had begun
that divine experience of youth--of youth essentially, whether it come
in early years or late--of being carried off his feet by a spirit not
himself. He ran like a young athlete down the dock to the nearest
workman, evolving schemes as he went.

The dock-hand apathetically trundled a small keg from one pile of
freight to another, wiped his hands on his trousers, took a dry pipe
out of his pocket, and looked vacantly up the river before he replied
to Hambleton's question.

"Queer name--_Jene Dark_ they call her."

It was like pulling teeth to get information out of him, but Jim
applied the forceps.

The yacht had been lying out in the river for two weeks or more,
possibly less; belonged to foreign parts; no one thereabouts knew who
its owner was; nor its captain; nor its purpose in the harbor of New
York. At last, quite gratuitously, the man volunteered a personal
opinion. "Slippery boat in a gale--wouldn't trust her."

Hambleton walked smartly back, taking a look both at the yacht and the
motor-car as he went. The yacht's nose pointed toward the Jersey
shore; the car was creeping out of the dock. As he overtook the
machine, he saw that it was in the hands of a mechanic in overalls and
jumper. In answer to Hambleton's question as, to the owner of the car,
the mechanic told him pleasantly to go to the devil, and for once the
sight of a coin failed to produce any perceptible effect. But the
major-general, waiting half a block away, was still in the humor of
giving fatherly advice. He welcomed Jim heartily. "That's a hole I
ain't got no use for. 'Ow'd you make out?"

"Well enough, for all present purposes. Can you undertake to do a job
for me?"

"If it ain't nothing I'd have to arrest you for, I might consider it,"
he chuckled.

"I want you to go to the Laramie Club and tell Aleck Van Camp--got the
name?--that Hambleton has gone off on the _Jeanne D'Arc_ and may not be
back for some time; and he is to look after the _Sea Gull_."

"Hold on, young man; you're not going to do anything out of reason, as
one might say?"

"Oh, no, not at all; most reasonable thing in the world. You take this
money and be sure to get the message to Mr. Van Camp, will you? All
right. Now tell