Again on the return trip they discovered the fellow among the passengers, but Boyd made no sign until the boat was landing. Then Cherry found that he had edged her into the crowd massed at the gangway, and caught sight of the man in gray immediately ahead of them. She noticed that while Emerson maintained a flow of conversation his eyes were constantly upon the fellow's back, and that he kept a position close to his shoulder, regardless of jostling from the others. She could not tell what this foreboded, nor did she gain a hint of Boyd's purpose, until the gang-plank was in place and they were out upon it. A narrow space separated the boat from the dock; as they crossed this, Boyd slipped and half fell on the slanting planks. She never knew exactly what happened, except that he released her arm and lunged violently against the man in gray, who was next him. It occurred with the suddenness of pure accident, and the next she saw was the stranger plunging downward along the piling, clutching wildly at the vessel's side, while Boyd clung to the guard-rope as if about to lose his balance. The man's cry as he struck the water alarmed the crowd and caused a momentary stampede, in which Cherry and Boyd were thrust shoreward; but the confusion quickly subsided, as an officer flung a heaving-line to the gasping creature beneath. A moment later the hatless spy was dragged to the dock, indignant and sputtering. "I'm very sorry, sir." Boyd apologized, profusely. "It was all my fault. The plank was steep, and I was forced off my feet. Whenever I'm followed too closely, I lose my head--it's a weakness I have." The man ceased cursing to dart a sharp glance at him, but he was still too unmanned by his cold immersion to do more than chatter angrily. In the hubbub Emerson led his companion out into the street, where she beheld him shaking with suppressed laughter. "Boyd," she cried, in a shocked voice, "then it was--you--you might have killed him! Suppose his head had struck a timber!" "Yes, that would have been too bad!" he declared; then, at the sight of her face, his chuckle changed to a wolfish snarl. "He'll know enough to keep away from me hereafter. I won't play with him the next time." "Don't! Don't! I never saw you look so. Why, it might have been murder!" "Well?" He stared at her, curiously. "I--I didn't think it of you." She shuddered weakly, but he only shrugged his shoulders and said, with a finality that cut off further discussion: "He's a spy! I won't be spied upon." When Boyd entered his room at the hotel, whither he had gone after leaving Cherry at Hilliard's bank, Big George greeted him excitedly. "Here's hell to pay. We can't get that barkentine." "The _Margaret?_ Why not? The charter was all arranged." "The agent telephoned that we couldn't have her." "What reasons did he offer?" "None. We can't have her, that's all." "She's the only available ship on the Sound. Our stuff will be here in a fortnight." "Some of it will."