In the photograph the man's beard was trimmed Valois; the beard of the man who had sat next to her at dinner had grown freely and naturally, full. Such a beard was out of fashion, save among country doctors. It signified carelessness, indifference, or a full life wherein the niceties of the razor had of necessity been ignored. Keenly she searched the familiar likeness. What an amazing freak of nature! It was unreal. She tossed the photograph back into the kit-bag, bewildered, uneasy. Meantime Warrington followed the purser into his office. "I haven't paid for my stateroom yet," he said. "I'll make it out at once. Rangoon, I understand?" "Yes. But I'm in a difficulty. I have nothing in change but two rupees." The purser froze visibly. The tale was trite in his ears. "But I fancy I've rather good security to offer," went on Warrington coolly. He drew from his wallet a folded slip of paper and spread it out. The purser stared at it, enchanted. Warrington stared down at the purser, equally enchanted. "By Jove!" the former gasped finally. "And so you're the chap who's been holding up the oil syndicate all these months? And you're the chap who made them come to this bally landing three days ago?" "I'm the chap." It was altogether a new purser who looked up. "Twenty thousand pounds about, and only two rupees in your pocket! Well, well; it takes the East to bowl a man over like this. A certified check on the Bank of Burma needs no further recommendation. In the words of your countrymen, go as far as you like. You can pay me in Rangoon. Your boy takes deck-passage?" "Yes," returning the check to the wallet. "Smoke?" "Shouldn't mind. Thanks." "Now, sit down and spin the yarn. It must be jolly interesting." "I'll admit that it has been a tough struggle; but I knew that I had the oil. Been flat broke for months. Had to borrow my boy's savings for food and shelter. Well, this is the way it runs." Warrington told it simply, as if it were a great joke. "Rippin'! By Jove, you Americans are hard customers to put over. I suppose you'll be setting out for the States at once?" with a curious glance. "I haven't made any plans yet," eying the cheroot thoughtfully. "I see." The purser nodded. It was not difficult to understand. "Well, good luck to you wherever you go." "Much obliged." Alone in his stateroom Warrington took out Rajah and tossed him on the counterpane of the bed. "Now, then, old sport!" tapping the parrot on the back with the perch which he used as a baton. Blinking and muttering, the bird performed his tricks, and was duly rewarded and returned to his home of iron. "She'll be wanting to take you home with her, but you're not for sale." He then opened his window and leaned against the sill, looking up at the stars. But, unlike the girl, he did not ask any questions. "Free!" he said softly. III THE WEAK LINK