"That's precisely what I want to discuss with you, Julius. I have just signed a contract with the Copley-Willard Publishing Company to write them a serial dealing with the heroism of the merchant marine in war-time. I don't mind confessing that I told them a little about you--said you had no end of crackajack material I could use. The result was the best contract I've yet made with any publisher; so I owe that to you. The Star News Company was very well satisfied with my record as a correspondent; but I bungled the contract with them. If I can put this thing through it means that I shan't be a poor relation much longer. Now if you can only give me a good subject and put me wise on the seamanship and help me to get the local color, the rest will be as easy as falling off a log. You must have had a good many experiences, for instance, with the submarines, when you were crossing the Atlantic twice a month." "Experiences--why, yes, many experiences; but my good fortune comes--well--from my good fortune. I am like the happy nation. I have not had much history for these two years. But I have seen things--oh, yes, I have seen things--that were like what you call clues--clues to many strange tales." "That's precisely what I want--a rattling good clue!" "Well now, let me think. There were some interesting things about those big merchant submarines that the Germans sent at one time across the Atlantic." "Like the _Deutschland_, you mean?" "Yes; and there were others, never mentioned in the newspapers. One or two of them disappeared. Perhaps the British destroyed them. Nobody knows. But it was reported that one of them was carrying a million dollars' worth of diamonds to the United States. Think of that, Roy! A submarine full of diamonds! Doesn't that kindle your imagination?" "Gee! I should say it would!" remarked Mimika, putting down the highly colored magazine in which she had been studying the latest New York fashions. "Depends what happened to it," said Roy. "Come, then, I will tell you a little story," said Vandermeer; "but you must not mention my name about this one. How did I come to know it? Ah, perhaps by some strange accident I met the only man who could tell the truth about it. Perhaps I was able to do him some small service. In any case that is a different matter. This story must be your own, Roy. It shall come from what you call your creative impulse." Mimika plumped down on a cushion at her lord's feet to listen. He patted her shoulder affectionately with his big left paw, which showed up in a somewhat startling contrast with its rough skin and long red hairs against that smooth whiteness. With his right hand he filled himself the third glass of rum punch that he had taken that evening. He smacked his lips between two sips. "Help yourself, Roy," he said, "and take another cigar. Yes, I will tell you. Take a sip, Mimika. That is good, heh? Now I shall need no more sugar.