e forming a smile in which was a little humor and
a great deal of tenderness.

Why there should be any element of tenderness in the stranger's smile
was a point that Peter was not prepared to analyze. He had been
subjected to the tender smiles of women, alas! on more than one
occasion; and it was part of Peter's nature to take these gifts
unquestioningly. He was not one to look a gift smile in the mouth!
Yet, if Peter had looked back upon his experience, he would have
admitted that such a smile was slightly premature, that it smacked of
sweet mystery.

And it is whispered that richly clad young women do not ordinarily
smile with tenderness upon young ruffians who throw apparently peaceful
citizens from the decks of steamers into waters guarded by sharks.

To carry this argument a step farther, it has always seemed an unfair
dispensation of nature that women should fall in love so desperately,
so suddenly, so unapologetically and in such numbers with Peter the
Brazen.

The phenomenon cannot be explained in a breath, or in a paragraph, if
at all. While he was good to look upon, neither was Peter a god.
While he was at all times chivalrous, yet he was not painstakingly
thoughtful in the small matters which are supposed to advance the cause
of love at a high pace. Nor was he guided by a set of fixed rules such
as men are wont to employ at roulette and upon women.

Peter did not understand women, yet he had a perfectly good working
basis, for he took all of them seriously, with gravity, and he gave
their opinions a willing ear and considerable deference.

The rest is a mystery. Peter was neither particularly glib nor witty.
Instinctively he knew the values of the full moon, the stars, and he
had the look of a young man who has drunk at the fountain of life on
more than one occasion, finding the waters thereof bitter, with a trace
of sweetness and a decided tinge of novelty.

Life was simply a great big adventure to Peter the Brazen; and he had
been shot, stabbed, and beaten into insensibility on many occasions,
and he was not unwilling for more. He dearly loved a dark mystery, and
he had a certain reluctant fondness for a woman's bright, deceptive
eyes.

As from a great distance he heard the jeers of the Javanese boatmen and
the flounderings of the coolie as he looked now into the dark, deep
eyes of this pretty, smiling stranger.

"Why did you do that?" she repeated softly.

"Because I wanted to," returned