The yacht was swift and the weather fine, and the miles fell behind with gratifying regularity. The sun shone bright by day, and the moon cast silvery gleams by night. In short, the astronomy of the trip was all that could be desired. As soon as the yacht was out of sight of land, the Professor, who was a born sailor, took occasion to explain matters a little more fully to Miss Lee, who likewise seemed not to feel the motion of the vessel. He explained them not because he wanted to do so, but because he could not help himself. The girl was altogether too clever not to suspect that something was being kept back. In any event, she must very soon find out that the yacht was going to dredge for something besides sea creatures. Unless told enough to satisfy her, she would surely ask questions that might show her ignorance of matters concerning which Olga could scarcely be supposed to be ignorant. It was better to tell her something of the objects of the trip rather than to risk the possible effects of her inquisitiveness. He told her that the _Sea Spume_ was going to search for a vessel that had been wrecked a year or two before, with a large sum in gold on her. He admitted frankly that he himself had come in order that by his scientific reputation he might conceal the true object of the trip. He meant to go so far and no farther. But he had not reckoned on Miss Lee. She heard him out; then she turned questioner. “These heart-to-heart talks are all right,” she remarked, “if they are all right. But if they ain’t, they’re punk. I’m from Missouri, y’know, and I’ve got to be shown. Why d’ye want to hide the object of your trip? Who owns this gold you’re after?” The Professor hesitated. “My friends own it,” he answered at last. “Then why don’t they go after it openly? A man’s got a right to his own, ain’t he? What’s the need of all this masquerading?” The Professor squirmed. The question, though natural, was not what he had expected. Pitilessly the girl went on: “Who are you afraid of? Who’s likely to interfere with you?” “Well!” Professor Shishkin was desperate. “Well!” he admitted. “I might as well tell you that our title to the gold is disputed, and we are likely to have trouble if it is known that we are after it. It is really ours, but our enemies are unscrupulous and dangerous, and they could make things very unpleasant for us. They would have gotten the gold long ago if they had known just where it was.” “Humph! Then you do know just where it is?” “We think we do.” Miss Lee considered a while. “It ain’t good enough,” she remarked. “I’ve studied geography, and I’ve been looking up the Baltic lately. There’s too much Russovitsky about this game. I’ll bet a box of taffy there’s a nihilist plot mixed in it somewhere.” “Sh!” The Professor’s face had changed, and he held up his hand warningly. “There’ll be suspicion enough on that point before long, I fear,” he whispered. “Don’t start it any sooner than it can be helped.”