“His name is not Stumps!” he cried indignantly. “He is the Earl of Ivy!” He evidently expected me to be surprised at this, and I WAS surprised. I stared at the much-advertised young Irishman with interest. Aldrich misunderstood my silence, and in a triumphant tone, which was far from pleasant, continued: “So you see,” he sneered, “when you chose to pass yourself off as Ivy you should have picked out another boat.” The thing was too absurd for me to be angry, and I demanded with patience: “But why should I pass myself off as Lord Ivy?” “That’s what we intend to find out,” snapped Aldrich. “Anyway, we’ve stopped your game for to-night, and to-morrow you can explain to the police! Your pal,” he taunted, “has told every one on this boat that you are Lord Ivy, and he’s told me lies enough about HIMSELF to prove HE’S an impostor, too!” I saw what had happened, and that if I were to protect poor Kinney I must not, as I felt inclined, use my fists, but my head. I laughed with apparent unconcern, and turned to the purser. “Oh, that’s it, is it?” I cried. “I might have known it was Kinney; he’s always playing practical jokes on me.” I turned to Aldrich. “My friend has been playing a joke on you, too,” I said. “He didn’t know who you were, but he saw you were an Anglomaniac, and he’s been having fun with you!” “Has he?” roared Aldrich. He reached down into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “This,” he cried, shaking it at me, “is a copy of a wireless that I’ve just sent to the chief of police at New Bedford.” With great satisfaction he read it in a loud and threatening voice: “Two impostors on this boat representing themselves to be Lord Ivy, my future brother-in-law, and his secretary. Lord Ivy himself on board. Send police to meet boat. We will make charges.--Henry Philip Aldrich.” It occurred to me that after receiving two such sensational telegrams, and getting out of bed to meet the boat at six in the morning, the chief of police would be in a state of mind to arrest almost anybody, and that his choice would certainly fall on Kinney and myself. It was ridiculous, but it also was likely to prove extremely humiliating. So I said, speaking to Lord Ivy: “There’s been a mistake all around; send for Mr. Kinney and I will explain it to you.” Lord Ivy, who was looking extremely bored, smiled and nodded, but young Aldrich laughed ironically. “Mr. Kinney is in his state-room,” he said, “with a steward guarding the door and window. You can explain to-morrow to the police.” I rounded indignantly upon the purser. “Are you keeping Mr. Kinney a prisoner in his state-room?” I demanded. “If you are--” “He doesn’t have to stay there,” protested the purser sulkily. “When he found the stewards were following him he went to his cabin.” “I will see him at once,” I said. “And if I catch any of your stewards following ME, I’ll drop them overboard.”