And up she did go with an agility and grace that only a man who knows a rope ladder could appreciate. The owner followed her immediately; and, the instant he was fairly on his way to the deck of the steamer above us, I got my next surprise. “Shove off!” snapped Stevens, in a sharp whisper to me. Almost mechanically I did so; for I was in that particular daze of unreality we are all familiar with. “Full speed ahead!” came the next quick command; and I threw the gear from the “neutral.” The cogs caught nicely, and we gathered instant motion. And in less than a minute thereafter we were speeding away, the steering gear working like new. In my day I have known more conventional ways of taking passage to Portland, Maine. For I read the steamer’s name on the stern. I had sailed on her once myself. CHAPTER III. BY CHANCE. Not one word could I get out of that tight-mouthed little cuss, Stevens. He didn’t even deign to look my way till we had rounded the couple of points, and he was approaching the float of a hotel dock that ran alongside the ferry slip at College Point. But what he did say then was rather complimentary, and I liked the smack of it. We had come alongside the float; and both of us, at his nod, had quitted the launch; and he stood there steadying her with his left hand. “Well,” said he heartily, as he stuck out his right for a shake, “you’re a good man at obeying orders.” I felt something crumple in my fist as I withdrew it. A crisp twenty it proved to be, and I realized that I had served my purpose. “That yellow boy was pretty easy earned; eh, lad?” said he, with a chuckle. “And with a little excitement thrown in, eh? But a closed mouth spills no mush. So I guess I’ll run her back myself.” And blow me if the little, old rascal didn’t pop right into the craft, start her with the skill of an old hand at the game; and, steering with the side lever with which the boat was fitted, he sped away, directly retracing the course we had just covered. I strolled shoreward along the wharf toward the hotel porch, where I sat myself at one of the tables and ordered a steak. And, while it was cooking, I tried to dope out a little of the mystery. Fifteen minutes of hard concentration brought me but one point; and that point, as I have already said, had already flashed to me on an intuitional second. I mean about the girl. Beyond my sudden love for her, nothing showed up to me at all. I simply couldn’t make head or tail to a thing that had transpired since I had been sitting with my grouch back there on the town dock at Port Washington. And now, perhaps, it’s the best time to explain the reason for the grouch, and let out how I happened to be there at all. Briefly stated, I had been discharged the day before. Fired, canned--call it what you will; and for what I now recognize to have been an entirely good and sufficient reason.