"But," pleaded Mollie, "it will only take a half-day to make the run--" "And a half-day back again," interrupted the captain, "is a whole day. Why, my children, I might be court-martialed if I were to do this thing." "But, if I promise that you not only will not be court-martialed, but will receive the commendation of the President, and the Secretary of the Navy, will you go?" "If you could guarantee this, ladies, why, damn me!--I beg your pardon--I would do it, just to please two such lovely girls as honor my cabin by their presence to-day; but, of course, you cannot do it." "But I can!" cried Mollie, "and your promise is given. I am Miss Mollie Craft, the President's daughter: in his name, I guarantee approval of your action." The beautiful girl arose from her chair, and stood proudly before the old sailor. Without moving a muscle of his face, Captain Gordon slowly said: "Pardon me, ladies, but any woman could have uttered those words." Crushed, and with a sinking feeling at her heart, Mollie nearly fell at his feet. He doubted her, and she had nothing to prove her identity. Deliberately came the words: "Have you anything to prove your relationship to the President?" "Alas, nothing!" she cried, and the tears filled her eyes. "No letter in which you are recognized?" he kindly asked. Ah! Stay! Hope again rose within her soul. Quickly thrusting her hand into her pocket, she drew out a letter. Nervously she broke the seal, and glanced over its contents. A ray of sunshine came into her tear-bedimmed eyes, her bosom heaved for a moment, and then she became calm. Handing the letter to the captain, she said: "The letter is to my aunt, in San Francisco, and was written by my father just before my departure." Captain Gordon took the letter, and, instantly recognizing the executive heading, slowly read: "WASHINGTON, January 3, 2001. "DEAR LORA: * * * * * "She is the only daughter I have, sister, and you must watch over her carefully. We cannot afford to lose our Mollie. * * * * * "Affectionately, your brother, "EMORY D. CRAFT." As he finished reading the letter, Captain Gordon rose from his chair, advanced toward Mollie, and extended his hand. "You will pardon my doubts, will you not, Miss Craft?" he asked; "but men in official positions must protect themselves. I no longer doubt your identity; the San Francisco is at your command," and he bowed low to her. "I thank you, Captain Gordon, and you will not lose by this kind act." Mollie's eyes were again flowing with tears, but now tears of joy. "When do you desire to start, Miss Craft?" "At once," she cried. "Return, then, dear ladies, and get your effects. I will leave the port in half an hour."