David also knelt, and they listened in silence, staring at each other. The sound was intermittent; a whiffling, wheezing squeak, and occasionally a faint tearing sound. “Fabric going,” said David anxiously. “It’s not a bag, because the disturbance is low down by the floor.” “Well, we got to find out about that,” declared Red. “It may be just a piece of cloth rattling at a window, or something, but there mustn’t be any unusual noises on a boat like this, where everything means something. I’d hate to have to turn back now.” They stood up as Mr. Hammond entered the passageway. David explained their trouble. “Under or over my room, eh?” he said, unlatching his door. A small brown streak shot into the hall, recognized the paternal trousers, whirled and fell at Mr. Hammond’s feet in an ecstasy of delight. “What the devil—why, you damned little runt, how do you happen to be here? It’s Dulcie’s pup, Koko.” He picked up the little fellow and petted him. “Dulcie must have shut him in my room while she was on board, and then the poor kid was so upset when she left that she must have forgotten the little beggar. Well, Koko, we can’t drop you offside, can we? We will just send a ’gram to your missie, and take you with us.” “There’s our funny noise, Red,” laughed David. “Gee, you had me scared, you little scoundrel!” remarked Red, with a sigh of relief. “He hates to be shut up; I’ll bet he was chewing something up,” Mr. Hammond chuckled. “Well, I’m glad he’s here. I wish I’d brought Dulcie, too. She’d be just about as safe up here as she will be swimming and canoeing and dancing, and racing all over creation in that damned car of hers.” He looked at the boys, and saw that their eyes, staring over his shoulder into the little cabin beyond, were filled with amazement, amusement, and concern. Red broke unexpectedly into a hearty laugh. “Well, Mr. Hammond—excuse us, sir! Beat it, Dave!” They bolted into the salon, and Mr. Hammond turned to his room. What he saw there made his old heart leap. He dropped the dog. “Dulcie!” he cried, and Dulcie ran into his open arms. “You are a bad, bad girl!” he whispered presently. “You are a stowaway; and you have made a fool of your poor old father. Who put you up to this?” “No one, daddy,” said Dulcie, rubbing her eyes which were full of tears and her nose which bore a nice imprint of rough tweed. “I knew you really wanted me, and you know my judgment is much better than yours in such things, so I just stayed quietly in here. I knew you would come in later, but Koko nearly spoiled it all. And you really do want me? I heard what you said. It’s a lesson to you, too; your child is going along wherever you go, and it only makes unnecessary scenes when you try to stop her.” Mr. Hammond blew his nose loudly. “Well, darling, I am glad you are here. Yes, I’m delighted; but don’t get it into your head that you have established a precedent. No, ma’am!”