batch of suits; a suit for every day in the
week, like the youth that married the tailor's daughter.

"He called me some sort of sea-lawyer, and was quite excited until I
calmed him with my card. When I left he was looking at my card as if it
had just bitten him, and sending out a summons for the wireless operator
that had all the timbre of an S.O.S. call. Young man, he'll want to see
you about three o'clock this afternoon if I'm not mistaken."

"What shall I do about it?" asked the Tyro.

"Give me five dollars. Thank you. I never work for nothing. Against my
principles. I'm now employed for the case. Go and see him, and keep a
stiff upper lip. Now, Alderson, your theory that a man must indicate
every high card in his hand before--"

Perceiving that he was no longer essential to the conversation the Tyro
drifted away. Luncheon was a gloomy meal. It was with rather a feeling
of relief that he answered the summons to the captain's room two hours
thereafter.

"Mr. Daddlesmith," began that harried official.

"That isn't my name," said the Tyro firmly.

"Well, Mr. Daddleskink, or Smith, or whatever you choose to call
yourself, I've had an interview with your lawyer."

"Yes? Judge Enderby?"

"Judge Enderby. He threatens to sue, if you are confined to your
stateroom."

"That's our intention."

"I've no lawyer aboard, and I can't risk it. So I'll not lock you up.
But I'll tell you what I can and will do. If you so much as address one
word to Miss Wayne for the rest of this voyage, I'll lock _her_ up and
keep her locked up."

The Tyro went red and then white. "I don't believe you've got the
power," he said.

"I have; and I'll use it. Her father gives me full authority. Make no
mistake about the matter, Mr. Smith: one word to her, and down she goes.
And I shall instruct every officer and steward to be on watch."

"As Judge Enderby has probably already told you what he thinks of your
methods" (this was a random shot, but the marksman observed with
satisfaction that the captain winced), "it would be superfluous for me
to add anything."

"Superfluous and risky," retorted the commander.

The Tyro went out on deck because he felt that he needed air. Malign
fate would have it that, as he stood at the rail, brooding over this
unsurmountable complication, Little Miss Grouch should appear, radiant,
glorious of hue, and attended by the galaxy of swains. She gave him the
lightest of passing nods as she went by. He raise