gravity. "If you
will tell me what it cost I--"

Again the old man stepped into the breach.

"Oh, I figger 'twarn't much," said he with easy unconcern. "The feller
who did it was used to mendin' jewelry an' knew just how to set about
it, so it didn't put him out of his way none."

"Yes," echoed Bob, with a grateful smile toward Willie. "It made him
no trouble at all."

The two men watched the delicate fingers unfasten the package.

"See how nice 'tis," Willie went on. "You'd never know there was a
thing the matter with it."

"It's wonderful!" she cried.

Her pleasure put to flight the old inventor's last compunction at his
compromise with truth.

"I am so pleased, Mr. Morton!" she went on. "You are quite sure there
was no expense."

"Nothing to speak of. I'm glad you like it," murmured the young man.

"Indeed I do!"

She stretched the band of white leather round her waist and Bob noticed
how easily its clasp met.

"There!" exclaimed she, raising her hand in mocking imitation of a
military salute, "isn't that fine?"

Willie laughed with involuntary admiration at the gesture, and as for
Robert Morton he could have gone down on his knees before her and
kissed her diminutive white shoe.

The girl did not prolong the tableau. All too soon she relaxed from
rigidity into gaiety and came flitting to the work bench.

"What are you doing, Willie dear?" she asked. "You know you never have
secrets from me. What is this marvellous thing you are busy with?"

Before answering, Willie glanced mysteriously about.

"It's because I know you can keep secrets that I ain't afraid to trust
you with 'em," said he. "Bob an' I are workin' on the quiet at an idee
I was kitched with a day or two ago. It's a bigger scheme than most of
the ones I've tackled, an' it may not turn out to be anything at all;
still, Bob has studied boats an' knows a heap about 'em, an' he
believes somethin' can be made of it. But 'til our fish is hooked we
ain't shoutin' that we've caught one. If the contrivance works," went
on the little old man eagerly, "it will be a bonanza for Zenas Henry.
It's--" he lowered his voice almost to a whisper, "it's an idee to keep
motor-boats from gettin' snagged."

The words were scarcely out of his mouth before his listeners saw him
start and look apprehensively toward the door.

They were no longer alone. On the threshold of the workshop stood
Janoah Eldridge.

CHAPTER IX

A WIDENING O