n, gave
her the most mysterious and disquieting sensations.

"I do wish," said Little Miss Grouch to herself, "that his name weren't
so perfectly _awful_."

Some thought-demon with a special mission for the persecution of
maidens, put it into her head to inquire why she should so vehemently
wish this thing. And the trail of that thought plunged her, face-first,
into her pillow.

Thereafter she decided that if she went on deck at all that day, it
would be with such a surrounding of bodyguard as should keep wandering
Daddleskinks quite beyond her range of association. As for his notes,
she would answer them when she thought fit. Meantime--as the writer
thereof might have been enheartened to know--she put them away in the
most private and personal compartment of her trunk, giving each a tender
little pat to settle it comfortably into its place.

* * * * *

Doubtless the sun shone that day (the official records said, "Clear with
light winds and a calm sea"); doubtless the crippled ship limped happily
enough on her way; doubtless there was good food and drink, music and
merriment, and the solace of enlivening company aboard. But the
snap-shot of the Tyro surreptitiously taken by Judge Enderby--he having
borrowed Alderson's traveling-camera for the purpose--showed a face
which might suitably have been used as a marginal illustration for that
cheerless hymn, "This world is all a fleeting show."

Life had lost all its flavor for the Tyro. He politely accepted Dr.
Alderson's invitation to walk, but lagged with so springless a step that
the archaeologist began to be concerned for his health. At Lord Guenn's
later suggestion that squash was the thing for incipient seediness, he
tried that, but played a game far too listless for the Englishman's
prowess.

In vain did he seek consolation in the society of Karl, the Pride of the
Steerage. That intelligent infant wept and would not be comforted
because the pretty lady had not come also, and the Tyro was well fain to
join him in his lamentations. Only the threatening advance of Diedrick
Sperry, with a prominent and satisfactory decoration in dusky blue
protruding from his forehead, roused him to a temporary zest in life.
Mr. Sperry came, breathing threats and future slaughter, but met a
disconcertingly cold and undisturbable gleam of the gray eye.

"If you interfere with me again," said the Tyro, "I'll throw you
overboard."

And it was said in