Here two or three customers came up and inquired of the young news-agent about some of the latest novels. Dean, seeing that his friend was occupied, went to the after part of the boat, and seating himself on a camp stool watched with interest the progress of the vessel and the shores so far as they were visible. It was now dusk, and shadows played over the surface of the water. Meanwhile where was Mr. Kirby? After a hearty supper in the dining saloon he smoked a cigar on the lower deck, and then began to wander about the steamer, choosing especially the walk that ran between the outside staterooms and the side railing. As he stood beside the railing a stout man looking like a prosperous merchant came out of his stateroom, and locked the door behind him. Then he passed through the nearest passage way into the saloon. "He looks as if he might carry something of value," thought Kirby. "I'll venture to examine." Waiting till the coast was clear he produced a pass key, of which he had managed to gain possession, and inserted it in the lock of stateroom No. 157, as we will venture to designate it. The door opened, and Kirby entered the room. He drew a match from his pocket, and lighting it looked swiftly and searchingly about him. There was a small hand-bag on the lower berth. "I'd take the bag if I dared, but it is too large to put in my pocket," thought Kirby. "Perhaps I can open it." He drew from his pocket a bunch of keys of various sizes, and tried one after another. The fourth proved to fit. The bag, when opened, displayed a variety of contents in which Kirby was not interested. But one article attracted his attention. This was a square pasteboard box with the name of Tiffany upon it. "I'll take that at a venture," soliloquized Kirby. "Since it bears Tiffany's name the contents must be of value. I won't stay any longer, for it might prove dangerous." He relocked the bag, opened the door of the stateroom, and locking it again securely prepared to leave the spot. He was only just in time, for the occupant of the stateroom appeared a minute later, accompanied by a younger man. "Yes," Kirby heard him say. "I bought a watch for my daughter from Tiffany. I'll show it to you." "A narrow escape!" murmured Kirby. "If he had found me in his stateroom, there would have been no end of a disturbance. I got through just in time." Kirby went into the saloon, and taking out an evening paper began to read it attentively, or rather he appeared to, but out of the corner of his eyes he was watching for the return of the gentleman he had robbed. He did not have long to wait. The two gentlemen came into the saloon, and one, the elder, seemed much excited. "I tell you, Johnson," he said, "there are thieves on board. I left the watch in a pasteboard box in my hand bag less than half an hour since—indeed I think it is only fifteen minutes, and it has disappeared." "Are you absolutely sure, Mr. Margrave?"