"I did not exactly force myself into your boat, though I was very glad to go in her, for I expected by this time to meet Mr. Whippleton." "I wanted to tell you what my purpose was," said he, making another effort to approach the subject which he had tried to introduce before. "I think I know what your purpose was." "Do you, indeed?" "I do, indeed." "Perhaps you would be willing to state it." "To save you the trouble of doing so in your roundabout way, I will. You intended to run away with Miss Collingsby. You deceived her, lied to her, and thus induced her to come on board of your yacht. You asked me only because she would not go alone with you." "Did she tell you that?" demanded he, biting his lip, and trying to subdue his rising wrath. "No matter what she told me; I am not blind. You told her you would join Mr. Whippleton's party, and that the two Miss Lords were on board of his boat. I saw her when she came in here, and he was alone." "The ladies were in the cabin, I suppose." "Mr. Whippleton is alone: he does not wish for any company to-day." "What do you mean by that?" he asked, evidently suspecting that I was wiser than I ought to be. "Miss Collingsby is alone on board of the Marian. I am afraid she will be uneasy if you remain here any longer. If you are engaged to her, she must be very anxious about you." "Don't be ugly and disagreeable, Phil. You are a good fellow. No one knows it better than I do. Now let us fix this thing up." "I'm too thick to understand you." "You are a good fellow, and I know you will help me out of this scrape," he continued, suddenly looking cheerful and pleasant, as though the whole difficulty had been solved. "If you will do the right thing, I will help you out of it." "I knew you would. You understand the matter. I do love Miss Collingsby, and she will tell you herself that she is not indifferent to me. She consented some time ago to elope with me, in my boat. We can run over to Lansing, St. Joseph, or some other town on the east side of the lake, be married, and return a happy couple. Since we are both agreed on this step, you are not hard-hearted enough to step between us. Her mother is willing, but her father, you know, is a stiff and unreasonable man. It will be all right with him when we return." "Has Miss Collingsby consented to this step?" I asked. "She consented to it once before, and if the way is open she will not object. Of course girls are coy about these things." "I have been told they are," I replied, indifferently. "Now you will help me out, Phil--won't you?" "I will," I added, rising from my seat. "That's a good fellow; and you shall never want for a friend. By the way, a smart book-keeper, like yourself, ought to have double the salary you are receiving now: and I will see that you have a better place as soon as we return. Whippleton says you are worth a thousand dollars a year." "Thank you."