“You will have to pay for this, Cram,” said David, tightening his grasp on Cram’s arm. “You will do just what I say. If you don’t, I shall make you wish that you were dead.” Anger rose in him again. “You poor thieving cur, you! I ought to—” “Oh, don’t, David, don’t! I can’t stand any more! I’ll do anything you say, only take me down from this place.” David stooped, opened the trap, and still keeping a hand on his shoulder, shoved Wally down the ladder, along the catwalk, down the rear ladder into the passage that led into the cabins and the salon. The sound of voices came to them. Everyone was at dinner. David pushed his prisoner into Doctor Trigg’s room. The awakened love birds scolded softly as Cram felt under the floor of the cage. It stood on the table on four short brass legs. He fumbled a moment, then thrust something into David’s hand. It was the missing envelope. David glanced inside. The papers were undisturbed. “Come on,” he said grimly. He shoved Cram before him into the salon, and stopped. Everyone looked up. There was a silence. He held up the envelope, and at the same time pushed Cram forward. “This man has something to say to you,” he said. CHAPTER XV MORE SPEED Cowering beside David, he got out the miserable confession at last. Bare facts that clothed themselves with sordid details in the minds of the listeners. Not a man spoke. Not a man could look at him. Searching each face, Walter Cram saw only the reflection of his own disgrace. He turned and bolted to the sanctuary of his cabin. David, the precious envelope in his hand, turned to go; but in a moment the passengers surrounded him, shaking his hand, patting him on the back, congratulating him wholeheartedly. One of the last to reach David was the youngest reporter. “Gosh, we are glad, captain! It sure was a rotten deal for you, and not so nice for the rest of us. Say, it is going to make a swell story!” “Round up the other press men, will you, please?” David asked. When they came, he said, “Boys, I know you will give me a square deal. I am going to ask a big favor of you. I don’t want you to write a word about what has just happened. Not a single word.” “Aw, have a heart, captain! It’s too good to kill,” cried the star reporter. “But you are going to kill it just the same,” said David, smiling at the speaker. “I think you fellows are all good friends of mine. I think you will kill the story for my sake. And if you won’t, why, please kill it for the sake of the Moonbeam. It’s her maiden flight, you know, and it would be a crime to smear her all up with such a dirty scandal.” One of the men laughed. “Hear him! You’d think the ship was a girl. Well, Captain Ellison, it’s all right as far as I go. I’ll respect the unblemished reputation of your husky lady-love. How about it, boys?”