between them," he explained, "each was to put in a
good word for the other." He nodded eagerly. "That's what I think."

There were moments during the cruise when Senator Hanley would have
found relief in dropping his host overboard. With mock deference, the
older man inclined his head.

"That's what you think, is it?" he asked. "Livingstone," he added, "you
certainly are a great judge of men!"

The next morning, old man Marshall woke with a lightness at his heart
that had been long absent. For a moment, conscious only that he was
happy, he lay between sleep and waking, frowning up at his canopy of
mosquito net, trying to realize what change had come to him. Then he
remembered. His old friend had returned. New friends had come into his
life and welcomed him kindly. He was no longer lonely. As eager as a
boy, he ran to the window. He had not been dreaming. In the harbor lay
the pretty yacht, the stately, white-hulled war-ship. The flag that
drooped from the stern of each caused his throat to tighten, brought
warm tears to his eyes, fresh resolve to his discouraged, troubled
spirit. When he knelt beside his bed, his heart poured out his thanks in
gratitude and gladness.

While he was dressing, a blue-jacket brought a note from the admiral.
It invited him to tea on board the war-ship, with the guests of the
SERAPIS. His old friend added that he was coming to lunch with his
consul, and wanted time reserved for a long talk. The consul agreed
gladly. He was in holiday humor. The day promised to repeat the good
moments of the night previous.

At nine o'clock, through the open door of the consulate, Marshall saw
Aiken, the wireless operator, signaling from the wharf excitedly to
the yacht, and a boat leave the ship and return. Almost immediately the
launch, carrying several passengers, again made the trip shoreward.

Half an hour later, Senator Hanley, Miss Cairns, and Livingstone came
up the waterfront, and entering the consulate, seated themselves around
Marshall's desk. Livingstone was sunk in melancholy. The senator,
on the contrary, was smiling broadly. His manner was one of distinct
relief. He greeted the consul with hearty good-humor.

"I'm ordered home!" he announced gleefully. Then, remembering the
presence of Livingstone, he hastened to add: "I needn't say how sorry I
am to give up my yachting trip, but orders are orders. The President,"
he explained to Marshall, "cables me this morning to come back and
take m