owever, if
you have one about you."

Four boxes were hastily thrust upon the great financier.

"Haf you noticed how poor the matches are lately, Mr. Landover?"
complained Mr. Block.

"As for this vagabond being superintendent of a mining concession up in
Bolivia," continued Landover, absentmindedly sticking Mr. Nicklestick's
precious, box of matches into his own pocket, "that's all poppycock.
He's an out-and-out adventurer. You can't fool me. I've handled too many
men in my time. I sized him up right from the start. But the devil of it
is, he's got all the officers on this boat hypnotized. And most of the
women too. I made it a point to speak to Mrs. Spofford and her niece
about him this morning,--and the poor girl has been making quite a fool
of herself over him, you may have observed. Mrs. Spofford owns quite a
block of stock in our institution, so I considered it my duty to put a
flea in her ear, if you see what I mean."

"Certainly, certainly," said Mr. Nicklestick.

"She should have been very grateful," said Mr. Block.

Mr. Landover frowned. "I'm going to speak to her again as soon as she
has regained her strength and composure. Nerves all shot to pieces, you
understand. Everything distorted,--er--shot to pieces, as I say. I dare
say I should have had more sense than to--er--ahem!--two or three days'
rest, that's what she needs, poor thing."

"Absolutely," said Mr. Nicklestick.

"You can't tell a woman anything when she's upset," said Mr. Block,
feelingly.

"Miss Clinton is a very charming young lady," said Mr. Nicklestick,
giving his moustache a slight twist. "I should hate to see her lose her
head over a fellow like him."

"She is a splendid girl," said Landover warmly. "One of the oldest
families in New York. She deserves nothing but the best."

"That's right, that's right," assented Mr. Nicklestick. "I don't know
when I've met a more charming young lady, Mr. Landover."

"I didn't know you had met her," observed the banker coldly.

"Oh, yes," replied Mr. Nicklestick. "We were in the same lifeboat, Mr.
Landover, you know,--all night, you know, Mr. Landover."

CHAPTER IX.

Early the next morning, Percival turned out long before there were any
sounds from the galley or dining-room. The sun had not yet cleared the
tree-tops to the east; the decks of the Doraine were still wet with dew.
A few sailors were abroad; a dull-eyed junior officer moodily picked
his way through the debris on th