tball fight for Yale--disqualified him for military service,
for which he longed more than ever in this hour when he saw the girl
beside him so thrilled by the pomp of war, when he saw her pride and
exultation in the military bearing of the father she revered. He felt
that he must seem a slacker in her eyes, even though she knew that no
fault of his own kept him at home, while others marched away to serve
their country.

For Roy loved Ethel and his chief desire always was to show perfect in
her eyes. For that matter, he was successful enough, since the girl
loved him. Their troth was plighted, and in due time they would be
married with the full approval of Colonel Marion, who both liked and
respected his prospective son-in-law. So, in preparation for his own
absence from home on military service, he strictly charged Roy to watch
over Ethel and guard her from any possible peril. It was only a father's
instinctive act in protection of his child. As a matter of fact, what
danger could by any possibility threaten the well-being of this Ethel,
who would remain living quietly in her father's New York house, along
with the elderly cousin who acted as chaperon to the motherless girl,
and the staff of old and faithful servants?

During the summer weeks that followed the departure of her father, Ethel
lived happily enough, content with a routine of life that included
entertainments of the usual social sort and especially the almost
constant company of her lover.

One of her favorite diversions was a visit to her father's yacht, which
lay at its moorings off Eighty-fourth Street in the North River. There
was only a caretaker left on board during the Colonel's absence, but
Ethel was fond of spending an afternoon in solitary enjoyment on the
yacht. Under the after awning she would sit at ease in the low wicker
chair, by turns reading, watching the ceaseless traffic of the river,
musing on love and happiness--which meant, always, Roy.

Came a day when Roy was summoned home by the illness of his mother.
Ethel went with him to the station and saw him off. It was long after
noon when she had given the last word of farewell and the last kiss of
tenderness to her lover. Ethel thought that she would like to seek the
repose of the yacht for a period of tranquil meditation in the luxurious
depths of her favorite chair under the after awning.

She rode to the dock in a taxicab, and the yacht's tender took her to
the vessel. It was just t