Edward in Hong Kong. They were lovely. So sorry we shan't see
you again. I remember you said you'd be in Manila the tenth of
this month. Dad has changed his plans and wants to get back
home, so we leave Manila by the _Taming_ on the eleventh. We
are going up to Dagupan by train and will reach Manila to sail
by noon. So, if you do get to Manila on the tenth, I think it
would be jolly to see you on board. We'll go directly from the
station to the tender. I'll address this on the machine, so
it'll look most businesslike, for Mr. Wilkins, the clerk, is
prone to gossip. Thank you again for your kindness in Hong
Kong and your many kindnesses to Dad and me on board the
_Manchuria_.

Sincerely,

MARJORIE LOCKE.

Trask, smiling broadly, put the letter into his pocket.

"That must be good news, sir. Hope it is. Shall we go out on the
big veranda for our nip? Cooler out there."

"What? Yes, certainly," said Trask, reminded of where he was as he
looked up to see the bar-boy standing beside him and Wilkins
waiting. In spite of the fact that the letter was ample proof that
Miss Locke was gone, it had put his head in a whirl. At least she
hadn't forgotten. He followed Wilkins.

"You look quite bucked up now," said Wilkins, as he pulled out a
chair beside a marble-topped table.

"I do feel better," admitted Trask. "Just the same, I'm bitterly
disappointed. No doubt I'm ungrateful, but I've played in rotten
luck."

"You expected to meet the Lockes?" suggested Wilkins. "Too bad."

"Yes," said Trask, and taking a glass from the bar-boy, sat down.

"Here's luck and a long stay, sir," said Wilkins.

"Thanks." But Trask was rather listless and tired, frankly bored by
the clerk. He stared out over the sickle curve of the bay along the
Cavite shore, where a line of white beach made a barrier between
the water and the green jungle. The red-roofed buildings of Cavite
lay out on the end of the sickle like a clutter of bleached bones
cast up by the tide.

The bay lay like a great shining shield before him, blazing with
millions of mirrors that danced on the shoulders of the sleek and
lazy swells, lifting in the sun-dazzle from the entrance, some
twenty-five miles away.

Trask looked at his watch. It was well after one, the hour when men
take shelter from the sun in cafes to t