Thatcher was awaiting him on the lower piazza when he arrived at the "Hamilton." "I wanted to have a few words with you before we join this promoter person up-stairs," he explained, "so I sent Stevens on ahead to tell him we are on our way. Duncan is the man's name. He's a Scotchman who has lived down here for many years. He has little education, and you could cut his brogue with a knife." "I won't object to his brogue if his signature is any good at the foot of a check," Cosden interrupted. "He doesn't come in on that end," Thatcher continued. "The idea is his, and he can be of service later on if we proceed with it. It isn't very large, and we can finance it easily if the thing is worth taking up at all. The scheme is to fit Bermuda out with a trolley system, and to bring the right tidy little island down to the twentieth century." "Not a bad suggestion," Cosden commented,--"and a great improvement upon the present system of bicycling." Billy would have rejoiced had he known how stiff his adversary's legs were after the famous ride to Elba Beach. "Why hasn't some one thought of it before?" "Duncan will tell you the story as he has told me," Thatcher said rising. "Come, let us go to him now. Ricky will have exhausted his vocabulary by this time." Cosden smiled at the mention of Stevens' name. "He's a curious fellow,--Stevens," he remarked. "With that vacant expression on his face he ought to make a corking poker-player. Is he interested in this deal?" "Ricky interested in business?" Thatcher laughed. "He would run a mile to avoid it! No, he's just a messenger this morning; but Ricky is all right in his way. He's the society member of his family. He isn't a heavy-weight, but when it comes to dancing or the latest word in men's attire, you can't overlook Ricky." * * * * * Cosden's departure left Huntington and Miss Stevens together on the piazza of the hotel. The bustle attendant upon the sailing had quieted down but Huntington had not recovered from the unusually violent action of the past few moments. "I was going over to have another visit with Hamlen," he remarked, "but the morning is gone." "It isn't eleven o'clock yet," Miss Stevens commented. "By Jove! is that all? Well, it's too late now, but I'll go this afternoon.--It seems as if ages had passed since breakfast! Do you suppose they'll keep that boy on board once they get him there?" "Of course," she laughed. "Why worry about him?" "I'm not worrying," Huntington protested. "I never worry,--I don't believe in it. Worry is for parents and married people generally." "What a cynic you are on the subject of marriage," Edith remarked; "you never pass an opportunity to knock it, do you?"