"Admirable! I am sure Courtenay will agree. Indeed, I am ashamed that

we superior males failed to hit on the idea earlier. Before I go, let

me be certain that my forgiveness is complete?"

"Shall we quarrel about a degree of blessedness? I assure you I like

you more than ever. When all is said and done, you thought I was

flinging myself at our excellent captain's head, so you tried to spare

me the pangs of unrequited love." The words hurt, but she did not

flinch. Christobal, anxious to deceive himself, was radiant.

"Your charity goes too far," he cried. "That was not the exact reason.

No, my dear Miss Maxwell, I begin to exercise a new-born discretion. I

shall not elucidate that cryptic remark until after New Year's Day.

But I don't mind telling you why I have hit on a definite date. If all

goes well with us--and we have had so many escapes that Providence may

well send us a few more--the Kansas should steam out of our little

bay of Good Hope about that period. Then I shall remind you of our

discussion, and keep my promise."

With that he left her. After a gasp or two of surprise, for Elsie

could read only one meaning into his words, she hurried up the bridge

companion to arouse Mr. Boyle and ask what he would like for luncheon.

"Thank goodness, Joey," she murmured to the dog, whom she picked up in

her arms, "thank goodness, Mr. Boyle is neither an engaged man nor a

widower. I do believe our excellent doctor is more concerned on his

own account than on mine. And he said that your master's manner

'betokened a growing admiration.' I wish--no, Joey, I mean nothing of

the sort, and if you dare to hint at such a thing I shall be very angry

with you--very--angry--indeed."

"Huh," muttered Boyle, wide awake and watching her through the open

door, "some one has been worryin' that girl. It's a sure sign of

trouble when a woman whispers in the ear of a dog or cat. Now, who can

it be? That doctor chap? He cocked his eye at her this mornin' when

she spoke about Ventana. He's a pretty tough old bird to think about

settin' up house with a nice young jenny wren. Damn his eyes! he may

be as rich as a Jew, but if she doesn't want him, an' is too skeered to

say so, I 'll tell him, in the right sort of Spanish, an' all. Now,

had it been the skipper--"

Boyle hardly knew what to think--"had it been the skipper."




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