hair.

"I like the way that red head of his came bobbing through the water,"
Beauchamp was saying. "Looks to me as if he would take a lot of beating.
He's no quitter. Since I haven't the pleasure of knowing Mr. Powers or
Senator Frome, I think I'll back Farnum to win."

"It's very plain you don't know Joe Powers. He always wins," contributed
his daughter blandly.

"But Mr. Farnum is a remarkable man just the same," Alice added. Then,
with a little cry to cover her flushed embarrassment: "Here he is. We do
hope you're a little deaf, Mr. Farnum. We've been talking about you."

"You may say anything you like about me, Miss Frome, except that I'm not
grateful for the lift aboard you gave me this afternoon," Jeff answered.

He found himself presently giving the story of his adventure. He did not
look at Alice, but he told the tale to her alone and was aware of the
eagerness with which she listened.

"But why should they want to kidnap you? I don't see any reason for it,"
Alice protested.

A shadowy smile lay in the eyes of Mrs. Van Tyle. "Mr. Farnum is in
politics, my dear."

A fat pork packer from Chicago joined the group. "I've been thinking
about the sharks, Mr. Farnum. You played in great luck to escape them."

"Sharks!" Jeff heard the young woman beside him give a gasp. In the
moonlight her face showed white.

"These waters are fairly infested with them," the Chicagoan explained.
"We saw two this morning in the harbor. It was when the stewards threw
out the scraps. They turned over on their--"

"Don't!" cried Alice Frome sharply.

The petrified horror on the vivid mobile face remained long as a sweet
memory to Jeff. It had been for him that she had known the swift heart
clutch of terror.

Part 4

Farnum, pacing the deck as he munched at an apple, heard himself
hailed from the bridge above. He looked up, to see Alice Frome, caught
gloriously in the wind like a winged Victory. Her hair was parted in the
middle with a touch of Greek simplicity and fell in wavy ripples over
her temples beneath the jaunty cap. She put her arms on the railing and
leaned forward, her chin tilted to an oddly taking boyish piquancy.

"I say, give a fellow a bite."

By no catalogue of summarized details could this young woman have
laid claim to beauty, but in the flashing play of her expression, the
exquisite golden coloring, one could not evade the charm of a certain
warm witchery, of the passionate beat of innocent life. T