f at his cigar. Clouds of smoke came out of his face
and floated down the wind. He was so visibly embarrassed that I gained a
little courage.

"And what brings you here?" I demanded.

He scrutinized me in perplexity.

"I think you're guessing, sir."

"Never a guess, McCann. You'll have to explain yourself."

McCann had once had a wholesome respect for me. But it looked now as if
the bottom was dropping out of it.

"Sure, Mr. Crocker," he said, "what would you be doing in such company
as I'm hunting for? Can it be that ye're helping to lift a criminal over
the border?"

"McCann," I asked sternly, "what have you had on the tug?"

Force of habit proved too much for the man. He went back to the
apologetic.

"Never a drop, Mr. Crocker. Upon me soul!"

This reminded Mr. Cooke of something (be it recorded) that he had for
once forgotten. He lifted up the top of the refrigerator. The chief's
eye followed him. But I was not going to permit this.

"Now, McCann," I commenced again, "if you will state your business here,
if you have any, I shall be obliged. You are delaying Mr. Cooke."

The chief was seized with a nervous tremor. I think we were a pair in
that, only I managed to keep mine, under. When it came to the point,
and any bribing was to be done, I had hit upon a course. Self-respect
demanded a dignity on my part. With a painful indecision McCann pulled
a paper from his pocket which I saw was a warrant. And he dropped his
cigar. Mr. Cooke was quick to give him another.

"Ye come from Bear Island, Mr. Crocker?" he inquired.

I replied in the affirmative.

"I hope it's news I'm telling you," he said soberly; "I'm hoping it's
news when I say that I'm here for Mr. Charles Wrexell Allen,--that's the
gentleman's name. He's after taking a hundred thousand dollars away from
Boston." Then he turned to Mr. Cooke. "The gentleman was aboard your
boat, sir, when you left that country place of yours,--what d'ye call
it?--Mohair? Thank you, sir." And he wiped the water from his brow. "And
they're telling me he was on Bear Island with ye? Sure, sir, and I can't
see why a gentleman of your standing would be wanting to get him over
the border. But I must do my duty. Begging your pardon, Mr. Crocker," he
added, with a bow to me.

"Certainly, McCann," I said.

For a space there was only the bumping and straining of the yacht and
the swish of the water against her sides. Then the chief spoke again.

"It will be saving you