“On the way to South America to stay six months,” he yelled insanely, “and my baggage left behind! I can't go on without my baggage, do you hear?” There was a whispered conference between the two men. The steward vanished through the doorway. “I've sent for the purser, sir,” volunteered the other. Crang stormed up and down the floor. Presently the purser appeared. Crang swung on him on the instant. “You've left my baggage behind!” he shouted. “My papers, plans, everything! I can't go on without them!” He shook his fist. “You'll either get that baggage here, or get me ashore!” The purser eyed Crang's fist, and stiffened perceptibly. “I'm not a magician, Mr. Bruce,” he said quietly. “I am very sorry indeed that this should have happened; but it is quite impossible, of course, to get your baggage here.” “Then get me ashore!” Crang snatched up his coat and put it on. “There's a tug, or something, out there, isn't there?” “Yes,” said the purser, “that's the company's tug, and I suppose you could go back on her, if you think you----” “Think!” howled Crang. “I don't _think_ anything about it! I know that----” His eye suddenly caught the envelope on the couch containing the ticket. “And what about this?” He picked it up, jerked out the ticket, and waved it in the purser's face. The purser refused the document. “You'll have to see the New York office, sir, about that,” he said. “I will, will I?” snapped Crang. “Well, that isn't all I'll see them about!” “I am sure they will do what they can, sir, to make things right--if they are to blame,” said the purser a little sharply. “But it might have been your teamer, you know, who made the mistake.” He turned to the door. “I will arrange about your going ashore, Mr. Bruce.” “Yes!” growled Crang savagely--and five minutes later, swearing volubly for the benefit of those within hearing, he wriggled his way down a rope ladder to the tug's deck. A deck hand led him to the pilot house. “The captain 'll be along as soon as we start,” the man informed him. Crang made himself comfortable in a cushioned chair. He sat chuckling maliciously, as he stared up at the towering hull that twinkled with lights above him--and then the chuckle died away, and little red spots came and burned in his sallow cheeks, and his lips worked, and his hands curled until the nails bit into the palms. He lost track of time. A man came into the pilot house, and gave the wheel a spin. “We're off!” said the man heartily. “You've had tough luck, I hear.” Crang's fingers caressed his bruised and swollen throat. “Yes,” said Crang with a thin smile; “but I think somebody is going to pay the bill--in full.” The tug was heading toward New York. CHAPTER TWENTY--OUTSIDE THE DOOR