The next day was a counterpart of its forerunner, except that it got more on my nerves. I had pegged through it in the hope that she might at least dine with us--for this was to be our last dinner on the _Whim_, Gates saying we would land about the following noon. But, happening upon Echochee and asking her this, she almost snapped my head off in saying that her mistress had no such intention. Growing more desperate as the afternoon waned, I tried again to approach Doloria's stateroom from the far end of the passageway, but Monsieur, glancing over his book, arose and came toward me. The expression in his face plainly said that if I attempted to force him aside he would command her to keep her door locked--and I knew that she would obey. Therefore, ready to abandon hope, I wandered up and sought a secluded place along the rail where, unobserved by steersman and forward watch, I could swear a little, and look more glum, and feel quite natural. It was here that Tommy passed me on his way to the cabin. "Time for dinner," he said, stopping and laying down something that had been under his arm. "Don't want any dinner," I growled. His face, for the first time in three days, broke into a beatific smile, and for a moment I was disposed to punch it, thinking, of course, that he meant to guy me. But he saw this intention and sprang back, holding his palms outward in an attitude of alert protest; yet the smile continued, now to be followed by a low, pleased laugh. "Don't get mad," he gurgled. "I'm not laughing at you--only at things." "In the circumstances I consider that personal," I glared at him. "Well, you needn't, honest! To-night I'm presenting the gezabo with a treasure box, and had really intended asking you to keep away from dinner. That's why I'm laughing--your unintentional acquiescence is a good omen!" "Treasure box of what?" I demanded, knowing this was some of his tomfoolishness, and irritated that he should have any heart for it. "Keep your head down," he winked good-humoredly. "You'll know soon enough." "Tommy," I now excitedly caught him by the arms, "you've got a scheme! What is it, old man? Tell me quick!" I shook him happily, for there was something about his mysterious air that began to inspire me with hope. "Very simple, son; very simple," he chuckled. "Surprisingly simple, and that's why it'll get across. You sit in the cockpit and observe without being observed, but I'll need your help in one thing: when you see me get up and walk around my chair, you beat it, _pronto_, for this very spot where we are now--and wait here. Understand? It's a nice secluded spot, so you just wait till I come." "Yes, but----" "Never mind! Just do what your Uncle Tom says. Now it's dinner time and I reckon Monsieur's starved--he always is! So I'll take my treasure box--oh, by the way, you're not supposed to be in the cockpit, so don't stir around!"