“Because, you see,” she added, “there goes Saki now with daddy’s toast and coffee.” She nodded toward the Jap, who was just entering the owner’s stateroom. “You see”--and she laughed lightly--“yesterday was picturetaking day. Now it’s dark room, and Heaven knows when we’ll see him next--that is, if he’s like he used to be, dear old dad!” “Used to be?” I couldn’t check the question in spite of me. “Why, yes. Didn’t you know? I haven’t even been aboard this _Ruby Light_ in over three years. I suppose, even when daddy made the bet then, he didn’t explain that I’d been in a convent in France ‘most three years, and needed some excitement? No?” “Made the bet?” I echoed, mystified beyond measure. Then she laughed heartily. “Oh, come, come now, Mr. Grey! Just because you lost the wager, you mustn’t play possum about it all. You know as well as I do that even before dad came to France to get me, he made this bet with Captain Pawlinson that, for all he’d made such a hit as a detective at Washington, he couldn’t catch us before we sailed for Savannah. Just for a lark, of course. And wasn’t it fun, though? Daddy always was a wonderful hand when it came to anything in the adventure line, and I come honestly enough by it.” Thank the Lord, she was bubbling away, and taking little notice of how her words were affecting me; and I got all out of the interval I could in controlling my amazement. So this absurd yarn was what had been cooked up for her benefit! I wondered that, even convent bred as she was, she was unsophisticated enough to believe it. But her next words came as almost reply: “You see, Mr. Grey, my father is a man of--well, shall I say eccentricities? And he certainly does do some of the oddest things! It’s just possible,” she added naïvely, “that it’s because we Stroths have always had plenty of money. Don’t you think so?” “Ye-es, yes. Of course, that must be it.” I was groping for an avenue of temporary escape, so seized upon the commonplace: “And now, Miss Stroth, how about a walk on deck?” She laid down her napkin, and rose buoyantly. “Splendid! Oh, this is better than France, I tell you, Mr. Grey! I’ll be with you in just a minute, for unless I wear a hat on deck for the first day or two I burn like the dickens in the sun.” There was something rather delicious in the way she said this that made us both laugh, and I was still chuckling when I mounted the steps to the deck. Once more the sun shone clear, but I noted an unsettled haziness to westward that might bring a change before night. Once more the smart schooner was undergoing its daily grooming. Old Steve was distributing polishing kits to four of the men, though he stopped long enough to take a tug at his forelock in salute. Evidently my reception aft had made a great impression upon him, as well it might. But I returned the greeting as democratically as I could, and turned to a question that came sharply from behind me. It was Stevens.