"What more have you got to tell me? It won't take you long," said Ryder with a chuckle. He knew his drawing powers as an interviewer, and could figure on Miss Mont's having told him about everything of importance in her life. "As for me, I'm plain John Ryder. I'm just what I appear to be, nothing more and nothing less." The sly villain, however, was hoping she would think him a deal better than he was. "I've got some money. I can make more. I'll keep you in comfort, and when I die leave you enough to live on. "That may not sound very sentimental, but don't let it cloud your eyes to the fact that I love you just as hard as any Romeo of the lot. I'm not much on playing the lute under a lady's window; but I'll be great on hustling out and, as we Americans say, 'bringing home the bacon.'" "Oh, dear, Mr. Ryder! You make me laugh in spite of myself." But she was actually wiping tears from her eyes. "That's right. I'd rather you'd take it laughing than crying. And as far as in me lies," he added, solemnly, "I'll never bring tears to your eyes, but always laughter to your heart," which was a wonderfully pretty observation for John Ryder to make. Nor was he at first disturbed in the least when Miss Mont told him she dared not answer on such short notice. She must think it over. "I like you," she admitted. "I am fond of you, I might say. But to be bound to a man _for life_ upon so short an acquaintance seems an--an awful thing." "Well, it is rather sudden, I suppose," admitted the American. "Though I have often noticed that the most successful deals I have ever put through are settled in short order--on the spur of the moment, as you might say. Ahem! This, of course, is different," he added, seeing her smile. "But take your time. Take until we land. That's day after tomorrow. One can do a lot of thinking in that time." And, from that moment, he religiously refrained from recurring to the theme in conversation with her, which showed plainly that John Ryder was a novice at the game of winning a woman's love. But before the _Minnequago_ steamed safely through the Narrows into New York Bay, Ryder saw Marks, the theatrical agent, walking with Miss Mont on the upper deck. They were in close talk for more than an hour. He had never particularly noticed Marks before. Now he found him a most objectionable looking person--squatty, with bulbous arms and legs, and his eyes half hidden behind heavily creased lids. Ryder was stabbed by jealousy, and did not know what the strange emotion meant. He went to his stateroom and wrote a note to Miss Mont. It was a kind note, a just note. It pointed out the fact that he was still waiting for his answer, that he could prove to her an hour after they landed just who and what he was, and that he could do all for her that he had said. He added that he desired her answer by the time the _Minnequago_ docked.