though he had not been
informed of the reason. It was his first season on the yacht _Olenia_.
The shipping broker who had hired him had been searching in his
inquiries as to Mayo's knowledge of the byways of the coast. The young
man who had captained fishermen and coasters ever since he was seventeen
years old had found it easy to convince the shipping broker, and the
shipping broker had sent him on board the yacht without the formality of
an interview with the owner.

Mayo was informed curtly that there was no need of an interview. He was
told that Julius Marston never bothered with details.

When Julius Marston had come on board with his party he merely nodded
grim acknowledgment of the salute of his yacht's master, who stood at
the gangway, cap in hand.

The owner had never shown any interest in the management of the yacht;
he had remained abaft the main gangway; he had never called the captain
into conference regarding any movements of the _Olenia_.

Captain Mayo, pacing the bridge in the forenoon watch, trying to grasp
the full measure of his fortune after troubled dreams of his master's
daughter, recollected that he had never heard the sound of Julius
Marston's voice. So far as personal contact was concerned, the yacht's
skipper was evidently as much a matter of indifference to the owner as
the yacht's funnel.

Orders were always brought forward by a pale young man who was taciturn
even to rudeness, and by that trait seemed to commend himself to Marston
as a safe secretary.

At first, Alma Marston had brought her friends to the bridge. But after
the novelty was gone they seemed to prefer the comfort of chairs astern
or the saloon couches.

For a time the attentive Beveridge had followed her when she came
forward; and then Beveridge discovered that she quite disregarded him in
her quest for information from the tall young man in uniform. She came
alone.

And after that what had happened happened.

She came alone that forenoon. He saw her coming. He had stolen a glance
aft every time he turned in his walk at the end of the bridge. He leaned
low and reached down his hand to assist her up the ladder.

"I have been nigh crazy all morning. But I had to wait a decent time and
listen to their gossip after breakfast," she told him, her face close
to his as she came up the ladder. "And, besides, my father is snappy
to-day. He scolded me last night for neglecting my guests. Just as if
I were called on to sit all