Dick had gone back to his seat on the cabin trunk. Beveridge, gripping Annie's wrist, stood at the pier edge, and looked down. “Smiley,” he said. Dick crossed the deck. “I'm Smiley. What is it?” “I shall have to ask you to come away with me.” “Who are you?” “Beveridge, special agent of the United States Treasury Department.” “Well, what do you want me for?” Dick was peering forward, trying to make out the figure in the background. “I guess it isn't necessary to tell you that; I 'll give you a minute to get what things you need.” “Who have you got there?” “It's me, Dick.” “Annie!” Dick leaped up to the pier. “Have you dragged her out here to see--” “Get back there on your schooner, Smiley. It won't be necessary to do any talking. Anything you say is likely to be used against you. Get back there.” Dick looked at him a moment, then jumped down. Beveridge followed, helping Annie, none too gently. “Where's your man Harper?” “Pink,” called Dick. “Pink, come up here.” In a moment the sleepy mate appeared. “Harper,” said Beveridge, “get an axe. Be quick about it.” Pink looked at Dick, who said, “Go ahead. Do whatever he tells you.” The axe was brought and handed to Beveridge. “Now, Smiley, you and your man go below, please.” “Below?” “To the hold. I 'll follow.” “Pink,” said Dick, “get a lantern.” They had to wait a minute, while Pink was lighting the lantern. There they stood, without speaking, each watching the other. Finally Pink led the way to the open hatch, and descended the ladder. Dick followed. Beveridge led Annie to the opening. “Wait,” he said; “I 'll go first, and help you down.” Dick, standing below on the timbers, looked up like a flash. “I wouldn't try to bring her down here if I were you.” “I'm not talking to you, Smiley.” “No, but you will be if you bully her much longer. Just try to make her go down that ladder. Try it!” Beveridge, without heeding, turned to Annie. When he turned back, Dick, with itching fingers, stood on the deck beside him. “What are you doing here? Didn't I tell you to go below?” “Annie,” said Dick, “just say the word--just look at me--if you want--look here, Mister Beveridge, I don't know much about law, but it seems to me you haven't shown me any papers, and, until you do, you can have your choice of letting go of her hand or losing your front teeth. Just whichever you like.” But Beveridge did neither. “No, Smiley,” said he, “we won't get into that sort o' talk.” After which remark, he stooped over and looked down at Pink and his lantern, and at the timbers on which Pink was standing. “I guess maybe you can see without going down, Annie. Sit down here, and watch what I do. Go ahead, Smiley.” [Illustration: 0219]