The watchman looked upon the crazed speaker and then glanced toward the shore. A few boys were playing about the place, and in the distance he could see three or four men going about their duties. Further away he saw faintly the captain of the boat, but he was beyond his hail. There was not a passenger in sight. Colonel Darringford glowered upon him fiercely, and then yelled: “To your post, you lubber! Order the men to lower the staging so all those passengers can come aboard. They have paid their money, and they shall have passage to their journey’s end.” Then, as if a new thought had come into his bewildered brain, he demanded: “Where’s that new boat--that infernal----” “You mean the _Spray_, Colonel? She’s gone on to Springfield.” “And left the only decent boat on the lake here, with a thousand passengers waiting to come aboard, and--and--and not--a--not--a--man----” His rage making him speechless, Colonel Darringford made an attempt to reach the watchman, muttering: “I’ll choke the life out----” In the midst of his incoherent speech he staggered to and fro, making a vain attempt to maintain his equilibrium, but a moment later he sank upon the deck unconscious. From thence he was carried to the cabin and left there to sleep off the delirium and stupor of his protracted debauch. The whole scene would have been ridiculous had not its price been a ruined manhood. Upon reaching Springfield, the first thing Judge Oglesby and Dean did was to arrange for the needed repairs of the _Spray_, after which they sought the bank officials to learn about the check that had been cashed there. But that institution had been closed for over two hours, and the cashier had been called out of town, and would not be back until the afternoon of the following day. Messrs. Brown and Sewall were found, but they could throw no light upon the situation. They had not sent a man to represent them and so it was evident some one had got possession of the check through deception. “I assure you we are not worried about the money, Judge Oglesby,” said Mr. Brown. But there was more than the loss of money at stake. While the judge and Dean were trying to solve this mystery, Mr. Montague was meeting with keener disappointment elsewhere in his endeavor to find what had become of Marcus Ellison. Late the following evening not a single clew had been found to settle either of these mooted questions. Dean Mercer was fain to return to the steamer to spend the night, while the judge went to one of the hotels and Mr. Montague accepted the invitation of his colleague, Mr. Durand, to go to his home. At the small hour of one only a few belated wayfarers were abroad, and a comparative silence lay upon the town. Then the stillness was suddenly broken by the most startling cry that robs man of rest: “Fire--fire--fire!” The alarm had started down by the dock. CHAPTER XIV. A LINK IN THE CHAIN OF MYSTERY. “The _Spray_ is burning up!”