urously. In his joy he wished he
could make them his confidants, tell them who was waiting for him on
board that yacht, make them understand what wonderful good fortune was
his.

After a time--the long time that even a fast yacht seems to consume in
covering distance to effect the rescue of those who are anxious--the
Olenita's whistle hooted hoarsely to assure them that they had been
seen.

"The same to you, Mate McGaw!" choked Captain Mayo, swinging his cap in
wide circles.

"Seeing that things have come round as they have, I'm mighty glad for
you, Captain Mayo," declared Candage. "I ain't no kind of a hand to
plaster a man all over with thanks--"

"I don't want thanks, sir. We worked together to save our lives."

"Then I'm hoping that there won't be any hard feelings one way or the
other. I have lost my schooner by my blasted foolishness. So I'll say
good-by and--"

"Good-by?" demanded Mayo, showing his astonishment. "Why are you saying
good-by to me now?"

"Because you are going aboard your yacht."

"The rest of you are going there, too."

"It ain't for poor critters like us to go mussing--"

"Look here, Captain Candage, I am the captain of that yacht, and I say
that you are coming on board and stay until I can set you ashore at the
handiest port."

"I'd just as lieve wait for that fisherman, sir. I'll feel more at home
aboard him."

"You ought to think of your daughter's condition first, Captain Candage.
She needs a few comforts right away, and you won't find them on board a
fisherman."

He turned to the girt who sat on the keel, silent, looking away to sea.
She seemed to show a strange lack of interest in the yacht. Her pretty
face exhibited no emotion, but somehow she was a wistfully pathetic
figure as she sat there. Mayo's countenance showed much more concern
than she expressed when she faced about at the sound of his voice and
looked at him. Color came into his cheeks; there was embarrassment in
his eyes, a queer hesitancy in his tones.

"There is a young lady--there are several young ladies--but there is Mr.
Marston's daughter!" he faltered. "She is on the yacht. I--I know she
will do all she can for you. She will be good to you!" His eyes fell
under her frank and rather quizzical gaze.

"She might not care to be bothered with such a ragamuffin."

"I can speak for her!" he cried, eagerly. He was now even more disturbed
by the glance she gave him. He had read that women have intuition in
a