The Agony Column

"Really--Mr.--Mr.--"

"West--Geoffrey West. I adore you! What can I do to prove it? I'm going

to prove it--before this ship docks in the North River. Perhaps I'd

better talk to your father, and tell him about the Agony Column and

those seven letters--"

"You'd better not! He's in a terribly bad humor. The dinner was awful,

and the steward said we'd be looking back to it and calling it a banquet

before the voyage ends. Then, too, poor dad says he simply can not sleep

in the stateroom they've given him--"

"All the better! I'll see him at once. If he stands for me now he'll

stand for me any time! And, before I go down and beard a harsh-looking

purser in his den, won't you believe me when I say I'm deeply in love--"

"In love with mystery and romance! In love with your own remarkable

powers of invention! Really, I can't take you seriously--"

"Before this voyage is ended you'll have to. I'll prove to you that I

care. If the purser lets me go free--"

"You have much to prove," the girl smiled. "To-morrow--when Mrs. Tommy

Gray introduces us--I may accept you--as a builder of plots. I happen

to know you are good. But--as--It's too silly! Better go and have it out

with that purser."

Reluctantly he went. In five minutes he was back. The girl was still

standing by the rail.

"It's all right!" West said. "I thought I was doing something original,

but there were eleven other people in the same fix. One of them is a

billionaire from Wall Street. The purser collected some money from us

and told us to sleep on the deck--if we could find room."

"I'm sorry," said the girl. "I rather fancied you in the role of

stoker." She glanced about her at the dim deck. "Isn't this exciting?

I'm sure this voyage is going to be filled with mystery and romance."

"I know it will be full of romance," West answered. "And the mystery

will be--can I convince you--"

"Hush!" broke in the girl. "Here comes father! I shall be very happy to

meet you--to-morrow. Poor dad! he's looking for a place to sleep."

Five days later poor dad, having slept each night on deck in his clothes

while the ship plowed through a cold drizzle, and having starved in

a sadly depleted dining saloon, was a sight to move the heart of

a political opponent. Immediately after a dinner that had scarcely

satisfied a healthy Texas appetite he lounged gloomily in the deck chair

which was now his stateroom. Jauntily Geoffrey West came and sat at his

side.