me where I can find a tug-boat or a steam launch,
quick."

"O'Leary, down at pier X--2--O has launches and everything else. All
right, my son, Aleck Van Camp, at the Laramie. But you be good and
don't drown yourself."

This last injunction, word for word in the manner of the pert Edith,
touched Jimmy's humor. He laughed ringingly. His spirit was like a
chime of bells on a week-day.

The hour which followed was one that James Hambleton found it difficult
to recall afterward, with any degree of coherence; but at the time his
movements were mathematically accurate, swift, effective. He got
aboard a little steam tug and followed the yacht down the river and
into the harbor. As she stood out into the roads and began to increase
her speed, he directed the captain of the tug to steam forward and make
as if to cross her bows. This would make the pilot of the yacht angry,
but he would be forced to slow down a trifle. Jim watched long enough
to see the success of his manoeuver, then went down into the cuddy
which served as a cabin, took off most of his clothes, and looked to
the fastenings of his money belt. Then he watched his chance, and when
the tug was pretty nearly in the path of the yacht, he crept to the
stern and dropped overboard.

CHAPTER IV

MR. VAN CAMP MAKES A CALL

Aleck Van Camp turned from the clerk's desk, rather relieved to find that
Hambleton had not yet made his appearance. Aleck had an errand on his
mind, and he reflected that Jim was apt to be impetuous and reluctant to
await another man's convenience; at least, Jim wouldn't perceive that
another man's convenience needed to be waited for; and Aleck had no mind
to announce this errand from the housetops. It was not a business that
pertained, directly, either to the _Sea Gull_ or to the coming cruise.

He made an uncommonly careful toilet, discarding two neckties before the
operation was finished. When all was done the cravat presented a stuffed
and warped appearance which was not at all satisfying, even to Aleck's
uncritical eye; but the tie was the last of his supply and was, perhaps,
slightly better than none at all.

Dinner at the club was usually a dull affair, and to Mr. Van Camp, on
this Monday night, it seemed more stupid than ever. The club had been
organized in the spirit of English clubs, with the unwritten by-law of
absolute and inviolable privacy for the individual. No wild or woolly
manners ever entered those decorou