he
orderly drawing rapidly nearer. He wondered if the wharf were
government property, if he were trespassing, and if for that reason the
man had been sent to order him away. He considered bitterly that the
government grudged him a place even in which to die. Well, he would not
for long be a trespasser. His hand slipped into his pocket, with his
thumb he lowered the safety-catch of the pistol.

But the hand with the pistol in it did not leave his pocket. The steps
of the orderly had come to a sudden silence. Raising his head heavily,
Swanson saw the man, with his eyes fixed upon him, standing at salute.
They had first made his life unsupportable, Swanson thought, now they
would not let him leave it.

"Captain Swanson, sir?" asked the orderly.

Swanson did not speak or move.

"The admiral's compliments, sir," snapped the orderly, "and will the
captain please speak with him?"

Still Swanson did not move.

He felt that the breaking-point of his self-control had come. This
impertinent interruption, this thrusting into the last few seconds of
his life of a reminder of all that he had lost, this futile
postponement of his end, was cruel, unhuman, unthinkable. The pistol
was still in his hand. He had but to draw it and press it close, and
before the marine could leap upon him he would have escaped.

From behind, approaching hurriedly, came the sound of impatient
footsteps.

The orderly stiffened to attention. "The admiral!" he warned.

Twelve years of discipline, twelve years of recognition of authority,
twelve years of deference to superior officers, dragged Swanson's hand
from his pistol and lifted him to his feet. As he turned, Admiral
Preble, the aide, and the bareheaded bluejacket were close upon him.
The admiral's face beamed, his eyes were young with pleasurable
excitement; with the eagerness of a boy he waved aside formal greetings.

"My dear Swanson," he cried, "I assure you it's a most astonishing,
most curious coincidence! See this man?" He flung out his arm at the
bluejacket. "He's my wireless chief. He was wireless operator on the
transport that took you to Manila. When you came in here this
afternoon he recognized you. Half an hour later he picks up a
message--picks it up two thousand miles from here--from San
Francisco--Associated Press news--it concerns you; that is, not really
concerns you, but I thought, we thought"--as though signalling for
help, the admiral glanced unhappily at his