were pale blue shadows under her
eyes, and he fancied her face looked drawn.

"May I ask you a question?" he asked.

"Surely."

"Just why did you beg my pardon? And, I may be wrong, but you seemed to
make a point of doing so rather publicly."

She flushed slowly, but did not avoid his gaze, coming over to the table
and standing across from him, her fingers resting lightly on the
polished wood.

"It was because I thought I had misunderstood you," she said. "And I
have thought it over since. I do not think that any man who would risk
his life to save that lad could have joined the ship with such motives
as you did. I--I hope I am not mistaken."

Rainey stared at her in astonishment.

"What motives?" he asked. "Surely you know I did not intend to go on
this voyage of my own free will?"

The changing light in her eyes reminded Rainey of the look of her
father's when he was at his best in some time of stress for the
schooner. They were steady, and the pupils had dilated while the irises
held the color of steel. There was something more than ordinary feminine
softness to her, he decided. She sat down, challenging his gaze.

"Do you mean to tell me," she asked, "that you did not use your
knowledge of this treasure to gain a share in it, under a covert threat
of disclosing it to the newspaper you worked for?"

It was Rainey's turn to flush. His indignation flooded his eyes, and the
girl's faltered a little. His wrath mastered his judgment. He did not
intend to spare her feelings. What did she mean by such a charge? She
must have known about the drugging. If not--she soon would.

"Your fiance, Mr. Carlsen, told you that, I fancy," he said, "if you did
not evolve it from your own imagination." Now her face fairly flamed.

"My fiance?" she gasped. "Who told you that?"

"The gentleman himself," answered Rainey.

"Oh!" she cried, closing her eyes, her face paling.

"The same gentleman," went on Rainey vindictively, "who put chloral in
my drink and deliberately shanghaied me aboard the _Karluk_, so that I
only came to at sea, with no chance of return. He, too, was afraid I
might give the snap away to my paper, though I would have given him my
word not to. He told me it was a matter of business, that he had
kidnapped me for my own good," he went on bitterly, recalling the talk
with Carlsen when he had come out of the influence of the drug. "You
don't have to believe me, of course," he broke off.

"I don't think you