ou'll likely never see. I was in the Princess Pats--you know what
happened to the Pats. You have hinted I was a slacker, that every man
not in uniform is a slacker. Let me tell you something. I know your
gabby kind. The country's full of such as you. So's England. The war's
gone two years and you're still here, going around telling other men to
go to the front. Go there yourself, and get a taste of it. When you've
put in fourteen months in hell like I did, you won't go around peddling
the brand of hot air you've shot into me, just now."

"I didn't know you were a returned man," the sergeant said placatingly.
A pointed barb of resentment had crept into the other's tone as he
spoke.

"Well, I am," the other snapped. "And I'd advise you to get a new line
of talk. Don't talk to me, anyway. Beat it. I've done my bit."

The sergeant moved on without another word, and the other man likewise
went his way, with just the merest suggestion of a limp. And
simultaneously the great doors of the bank swung open. Thompson looked
first after one man then after the other, and passed into the bank with
a thoughtful look on his face.

He finished his business there. Other things occupied his attention
until noon. He lunched. After that he drove to Coal Harbor where the
yachts lie and motor boats find mooring, and having a little time to
spare before Tommy's arrival, walked about the slips looking over the
pleasure craft berthed thereat. Boats appealed to Thompson. He had taken
some pleasant cruises with friends along the coast. Some day he intended
to have a cruising launch. Tommy had already attained that distinction.
He owned a trim forty-footer, the _Alert_. Thompson's wanderings
presently brought him to this packet.

A man sat under the awning over the after deck. Thompson recognized in
him the same individual upon whom the recruiting sergeant's eloquence
had been wasted that morning. He was in clean overalls, a seaman's
peaked cap on his head. Thompson had felt an impulse to speak to the man
that morning. If any legitimate excuse had offered he would have done
so. To find the man apparently at home on the boat in which he himself
was taking brief passage was a coincidence of which Thompson proceeded
to take immediate advantage. He climbed into the cockpit. The man looked
at him questioningly.

"I'm going across the Inlet with Mr. Ashe," Thompson explained. "Are you
on the _Alert_?"

"Engineer, skipper, and bo'sun too," the man