"This is great," said the tall man. His companion grunted blissfully. Gentle hands from the sea rocked their craft and lulled them to peace. Lapping waves sang little rippling sea-songs about them. The two men issued contented groans. "Tom," said the freckled man. "What?" said the other. "This is great." They lay and thought. A fish-hawk, soaring, suddenly, turned and darted at the waves. The tall man indolently twisted his head and watched the bird plunge its claws into the water. It heavily arose with a silver gleaming fish. "That bird has got his feet wet again. It's a shame," murmured the tall man sleepily. "He must suffer from an endless cold in the head. He should wear rubber boots. They'd look great, too. If I was him, I'd--Great Scott!" He had partly arisen, and was looking at the shore. He began to scream. "Ted! Ted! Ted! Look!" "What's matter?" dreamily spoke the freckled man. "You remind me of when I put the bird-shot in your leg." He giggled softly. The agitated tall man made a gesture of supreme eloquence. His companion up-reared and turned a startled gaze shoreward. "Lord!" he roared, as if stabbed. The land was a long, brown streak with a rim of green, in which sparkled the tin roofs of huge hotels. The hands from the sea had pushed them away. The two men sprang erect, and did a little dance of perturbation. "What shall we do? What shall we do?" moaned the freckled man, wriggling fantastically in his dead balloon. The changing shore seemed to fascinate the tall man, and for a time he did not speak. Suddenly he concluded his minuet of horror. He wheeled about and faced the freckled man. He elaborately folded his arms. "So," he said, in slow, formidable tones. "So! This all comes from your accursed vanity, your bathing-suit, your idiocy; you have murdered your best friend." He turned away. His companion reeled as if stricken by an unexpected arm. He stretched out his hands. "Tom, Tom," wailed he, beseechingly, "don't be such a fool." The broad back of his friend was occupied by a contemptuous sneer. Three ships fell off the horizon. Landward, the hues were blending. The whistle of a locomotive sounded from an infinite distance as if tooting in heaven. "Tom! Tom! My dear boy," quavered the freckled man, "don't speak that way to me." "Oh, no, of course not," said the other, still facing away and throwing the words over his shoulder. "You suppose I am going to accept all this calmly, don't you? Not make the slightest objection? Make no protest at all, hey?" "Well, I--I----" began the freckled man. The tall man's wrath suddenly exploded. "You've abducted me! That's the whole amount of it! You've abducted me!" "I ain't," protested the freckled man. "You must think I'm a fool." The tall man swore, and sitting down, dangled his legs angrily in the water. Natural law compelled his companion to occupy the other end of the raft.