He heard some talk of a “board meeting.” It was plain that Mr. Marston was to be occupied for a time. This was not a favorable moment in which to project himself upon the attention of the financier; he needed a clear field. Therefore he tramped up and down the corridor of the office building, watching the elevator door, waiting to see the rotund gentlemen go on their way. And with attention thus focused he saw Miss Alma Marston arrive. She waited until the elevator had passed on, and then she came directly to him. Her expression did not reveal her mood except to hint that she was self-possessed. “I am not especially surprised to find you here,” she told him. “I believe you said to Captain Downs--so he informed me--that you were going to try to see my father. And men who try to see my father, without proper introduction, usually kick their heels outside his office for some days.” There was a bit of hauteur in her voice. She preserved much of the acerbity which had marked her demeanor when they had said good-by to each other. He would not acknowledge to himself that he hoped she would meet him on another plane; he meekly accepted her attitude as the proper one. He was a sailor, and she was the daughter of Julius Marston. “Do you blame me for being suspicious in regard to what you intend to say to my father?” she demanded. “I tell you frankly that I came here looking for you. We must settle our affair.” “I am trying to get word with him about my own business--simply my own business, Miss Marston.” “But as to me! What are you going to say to him about me? You remember I told you that I intended to protect myself,” she declared, with some insolence. “I thought you had a better opinion of me,” he protested. “Miss Marston, as far as I am concerned, you never were on that schooner. I know nothing about you. I do not even know you. Do you understand?” He started away hastily. “Don't stay here. Don't speak to me. Somebody may see you.” “'Come back here!” He stopped. “I demand an explicit promise from you that if you are able to talk with my father you will never mention my name to him or try to take advantage of the dreadful mistake I made.” “I promise, on my honor,” he said, straightening. “Thank you, sir.” “And now that I have promised,” he added, red in his tanned cheeks, “I want to say to you, Miss Marston, that you have insulted me gratuitously. I suppose I'm not much in the way of a gentleman as you meet them in society. I'm only a sailor. But I'm neither a tattler nor a blackmailer. I know the square thing to do where a woman is concerned, and I would have done it without being put under a pledge.” He bowed and walked away. She gazed after him, a queer sparkle in her eyes. “We'll see about you, you big child!” she murmured. She entered the waiting-room of the Marston & Waller suite, and was informed that her father was busy with a board meeting.