reshold, and thrown
heavily to the floor. He struggled partially upright, protesting against
being left in that helpless condition, but the red-moustached man only
laughed, shutting the door tightly, and locking it. The single port hole
was covered by heavy drapery, the stateroom in total darkness. Through
the door panels he could hear a voice speaking.

"He's better off that way until we get out of here. You stay here, Mary,
till I can attend to him myself. Those fellows ought to have that engine
fixed by this time. Mark and I better go up on deck awhile."

"But, Joe, do you think they have caught on to us?" she asked anxiously.

"No, I don't; this guy wouldn't be snooping about alone if they had. He
ain't no fly cop, and just happened to be loafin' here--that's my guess.
He knew this was the Coolidge Yacht, and that set him to asking
questions. That guy don't look to me like he was the kind to be afraid
of. All we got to do is hold him here until Jim decides what he's up to.
I don't want to hurt him none, unless I have to. Everything else all
right, I suppose?"

"Sure; quiet as a mouse; asleep, I guess."

"That's good; well you stay here until I come back. Want a gun?"

She did not answer so as to be heard, but West could distinguish the
movement of feet in the outer cabin, and then the closing of a door.
Undoubtedly the two men had gone on deck, leaving the woman there alone.
His feet were not tied, and he could sit up, although the hands were
tightly bound behind him. With eyes accustoming themselves to the gloom,
he could discern something of his surroundings. He was in the ordinary
stateroom of a small yacht, with barely space in which to move about
comfortably. Two bunks were at one side, with a metal stand at their foot
for washing purposes. A rug covered the floor, the beds were made, and a
stool, screwed to the deck, occupied a position just below the porthole.
A few hooks were in evidence on the opposite wall; but no garments
dangled from them to tell of previous occupancy. Indeed the place was
scrupulously clean, as though unused for some time.

West made his way to the port, pushed aside the curtain with his
shoulders and looked out. The smallness of the opening made any hope of
escape in that way impossible; nor could he expect to attract the
attention of any one ashore. His view was limited to the east and north,
a wide expanse of blue water, the only thing in sight being the pleasure
boat bound fo