don't claim to know what's going on in the rest of the world," he
continued significantly, "but you can back your Uncle Ik to know
everything that's happening on board this wagon."

"What's happening now? Do tell me," said Mrs. Weston, leaning forward
and almost upsetting the salt in her eagerness.

"An Englishman, a poisonously funny Englishman, is running out of his
course. He'll hit a reef before long that will knock a hole in his
hull."

"Oh, you mean the Honorable Percival?"

"I do. And if he's like the majority of those titled Johnnies, he's so
crooked he can hide behind a corkscrew."

"O Captain, that's absurd! Why, he is one of the most absolutely
irreproachable and unapproachable young aristocrats I ever saw."

"That's all right. I don't tie up to the British aristocracy, nor any
other foreign nobility. Besides, what headway will I make by steering
that girl of mine off one shoal to land her on another?"

"Was the Wyoming affair quite out of the question?"

"Oh, Hal Ford is a good-enough chap, but he's a perfect kid. They are
both too young to know what they want. Besides, I am not going to have
her drop anchor on a ranch for the rest of her days. I'll send her up to
'Frisco to school first. That's what the row was about before she left
home. The little minx defied me, so I picked her up and brought her with
me out to Hong-Kong."

"Poor child! She probably sees now that you were quite right."

"Maybe she does and maybe she doesn't. She's a wily little scamp all
right. I discovered that the second day out. I'd forbidden her to write
any letters to the ranch, so she was keeping a log-book which she was
going to mail at every port."

"And were you hard-hearted enough to confiscate it?"

"I was. At least I ordered her to give it to me on the spot, and she
said she'd chuck it overboard first."

"And did she!"

"She did," said the captain, with a grim chuckle.

"You don't understand that girl," said Mrs. Weston. "I'm quite sure
she'd be amenable if she were handled right. However, she doesn't seem
to be breaking her heart. Between Andy and the Honorable she's finding
consolation."

"Most women do," said the captain, with one of those flashes of
bitterness that sent all the good humor scurrying out of his face.

"Of course, she's just playing with Andy," Mrs. Weston hurried on,
fearful of the memories she had stirred; "but Mr. Hascombe is different.
He is so good-looking and so polished, almost an