He laughed with charming naivete, and began at once. But it was all disappointingly simple. It had happened aboard ship. A hulking Finn, one of the crew's bullies, had accused Hilmer of stealing his tobacco. A scuffle followed, blows, blood drawn. Upon the slippery deck Hilmer had fallen prone in an attempt to place a swinging blow. The Finn had seized this opportunity and flung a bit of pig iron upon Hilmer's sprawling right hand. Hilmer had leaped to his feet at once and, seizing the bar of iron in his dripping fingers, had crushed the bully's head with one sure, swift blow. "He fell face downward ... his head split open like a rotten melon." Helen Starratt shuddered. "How ... how perfectly fascinating!" escaped her. Starratt stared. He had never seen his wife so kindled with morbid excitement. "I ... I thought you didn't like to hear unpleasant stories," he threw at her, disagreeably. She tossed the flaming cushion, upon which she had been leaning, into a corner, a certain insolence in her quick gesture. "I don't like to _read_ about them," she retorted, and she turned a wanton smile in the direction of Hilmer. At this juncture the maid opened the folding doors between the dining room and the living room. She had on her hat and coat, and, as she retreated to the kitchen, Helen Starratt flashed a significant look at her husband. He followed the woman reluctantly. When he entered the kitchen she was leaning against the sink, smoothing on a pair of faded silk gloves. "I'm sorry," he began, awkwardly, "but I forgot to cash a check to-day. How much do you charge?" The woman's hands flew instinctively to her hips as she braced herself into an attitude of defiance. "Three dollars!" she snapped. "And my car fare." He searched his pockets and held out a palm filled with silver for her inspection. "I've just got two forty," he announced, apologetically. "You see, we usually have Mrs. Finn. She knows us and I felt sure she'd wait until next time. If you give me your address I can send you the difference to-morrow." She tossed back her head. "Nothing doing!" she retorted. "I don't give a damn what you thought. I want my money now or, by Gawd, I'll start something!" Her voice had risen sharply. Starratt was sure that everybody could hear. "I haven't got three dollars," he insisted, in a low voice. "Can't you see that I haven't?" "Ask your wife, then." "She hasn't a cent... I should have cashed a check to-day, but I forgot... You forget things sometimes, don't you?" He was conscious that his voice had drawn out in a snuffling appeal, but he simply had to placate this female ogress in some way. "Ask your swell friends, then." "Why, I can't do that... I don't know them well enough. This is the first time--"