."

"Have you never noticed, captain, that in this world a man's
opportunities do not always match his inclinations?"

"I've noticed that a man gets what he wants if he is strong enough to
take it."

"So far as I know you have made four attempts to get the map. Have you
got it?"

"Not yet. Plenty of time though. When I need it I'll get it."

My skeptical laugh must have annoyed him.

"Then you'd better get busy if it's true that we sail to-morrow."

"Hope you'll have a pleasant trip."

"Thanks. Sorry we can't ask you, captain. But there really isn't room
and our party is full. No doubt you'll be starting on a little jaunt of
your own soon?"

"Yes, to-morrow, too, as it happens. Perhaps we may meet again. It's a
small world after all, Mr. Sedgwick."

"We'll look out for you."

"Do. And go prepared for squalls. One never knows what may happen. The
Pacific is treacherous. Likely enough you'll meet dirty weather."

"I'm thinking you're right. But the yacht is good for it."

"And the yacht's passengers?" he asked with angled brows.

"We're all good sailors."

"But isn't there a good deal of yellow fever in Panama?"

"Not now. There used to be."

"Haven't I heard of pirates in the Isthmus country?" he asked, smiling
with superb impudence.

"That's in the past too, captain; but if we meet any, the vermin will be
glad to sheer off. I'll promise you that."

The villain drew a breath of mock relief.

"That makes my mind easier, Mr. Sedgwick. I'll confess I've been a
little troubled for you."

"Thanks for your kind thoughts, but I'm confident we can look out for
ourselves."

Our words had been light enough, but be sure there was no laughter in
the eyes that fastened each pair to the other. For me, I never was more
vigilant in my life--and Bothwell knew it.

"Going up-town, captain? If not I'll say good evening."

He nodded genially.

"Pleasant voyage. And _do_ be careful of the squalls and the fever and
the pirates. Do you know I can't help thinking you had better leave
Evie at home for me to take care of."

"But you're leaving, too, I understood you to say. No, we'll take good
care of her. I give you my word on that."

I had been edging round him with the intention of backing away. He held
out his hand, but--well, my fingers were otherwise engaged. They still
caressed a knobby bit of metal in my overcoat pocket.

At the last moment, so it appeared, he yielded to an impulse.

"Must we really