st licking--" He stopped. Perhaps he realized that his
explanation was beginning to seem slightly tinged with too great
evidence of personal satisfaction if not boastfulness. "You see I had a
gun," he murmured rather apologetically.

"But," said the girl, coming nearer, "I don't understand."

He started to meet that advance, then backed away a little. "I've got
him safe, where he can't move, or bother you any more." Mr. Heatherbloom
glanced over his shoulder; but he did not tell her where he "had him".
"And the yacht's going back to the nearest American port," he couldn't
help adding, impetuously, to reassure her.

"Going back? Impossible!" Wonder, incredulity were in her voice.

"It's true as shooting, Bet--"

She was too bewildered to notice that slight slip of the tongue. "It's a
fact, miss," he added more gruffly.

"But how?" Her tones betrayed reticence in crediting the miracle. Yet
this blackened figure must have prevailed over the prince or the latter
would not have so mysteriously disappeared. "How did it happen?"

"Well, you see I just happened around."

"You, a stoker?"

Stokers, he was reminded by her tone, did not usually "happen around" on
decks of palatial private yachts. He must seek a different, more
definite explanation. He thought he saw a way; he could let her know
part of the truth. "The fact is, I was looking for this boat at the last
port she stopped at. I had cause to think you would be on her. Couldn't
stop the yacht from going to sea, for reasons too numerous to mention,
so I just slipped out and came aboard in a kind of disguise--"

"A disguise? Then you are a detective?"

"I think I may truthfully say I am, but in a sort of private capacity.
When a really important case occurs, it interests me. Now this was an
important case, and--and it interested me." He hardly knew what he was
saying, her eyes were so insistent. Betty Dalrymple had always had the
most disconcerting eyes. "Because, you see, your--your aunt was so
anxious--and"--with a flash of inspiration--"the reward was a big one."

"The reward? Of course." Her voice died away. "You hoped to get it. That
is the reason--"

He let his silence answer in the affirmative; he felt relieved now. She
had not recognized him--yet. In the recess behind the draperies the
chair in which his excellency was bound, creaked. Was he struggling to
release himself? Mr. Heatherbloom had faith in the knots and the silken
cords. The girl turned he