Just then Alton Clyde and a group of people, among whom was Willis Marsh, emerged from the cabin, talking and laughing. Mildred arose, saying: "Here come the Berrys, ready to go ashore." "When may I see you again?" he inquired, quickly. "You may come out this evening." His eyes blazed as he answered, "I shall come!" As the others came up, she said: "Mr. Emerson can't accompany us. He wishes to see father." "I just left him in the cabin," said Marsh. He helped the ladies to the ladder, and a moment later Emerson waved the party adieu, then turned to the saloon in search of Wayne Wayland. In Mr. Wayland's stiff greeting there was no hint that the two men had ever been friendly, but Emerson was prepared for coolness, and seated himself without waiting for an invitation, glad of the chance to rest his tired limbs. He could not refrain from comparing these splendid quarters with his own bare living shack. The big carved desk, the heavy leather chairs, the amply fitted sideboard, seemed magnificent by contrast. His eyes roved over the walls with their bookshelves and rare paintings, and between velour hangings he caught a glimpse of a bedroom all in cool, white enamel. The unaccustomed feel of the velvet carpet was grateful to his feet; he coveted that soft bed in yonder with its smooth linen. For all these things he felt the savage hunger that comes of deprivation and hardship. Mr. Wayland had removed his glasses, and was waiting grimly. "I have a good deal to say to you, sir," Emerson began, "and I would like you to hear me through." "Go ahead." "I am going to tell you some things about Mr. Marsh that I dare say you will disbelieve, but I can verify my statements. I think you are a just man, and I don't believe you know, or would approve, the methods he has used against me." "If this is to be an arraignment of Mr. Marsh, I suggest that you wait until he can be present. He has gone ashore with the women folks." "I prefer to talk to you, first. We can call him in later if you wish." "Before we begin, may I inquire what you expect of me?" "I expect relief." "You remember our agreement?" "I don't want assistance; I want relief." "Whatever the distinction in the words, I understand that you are asking a favor?" "I don't consider it so." "Very well. Proceed." "When you sent me out three years ago to make a fortune for Mildred, it was understood that there should be fair play on both sides--" "Have you played fair?" quickly interposed the old man.