"Nan Burgess cannot keep her tongue still, even about herself."

"I know, but I do not intend to have you give occasion even for
jokes. Of course, I understand. I know your whims. You are interested,
personally, in that gold-braided chap about as much as you would be
interested in that brass thing where the compass is--whatever they call
it."

"But he's a gentleman!" she cried, her interest making her unwary. "His
grandfather was--"

"Alma!" snapped Julius Marston. His eyes opened wide. He looked her up
and down. "I have heard before that an ocean trip makes women silly,
I am inclined to believe it. I don't care a curse who that fellow's
grandfather was. _You_ are my daughter--and you keep off that bridge!"

The men of business were coming up the companion-way, and she rose and
hurried to her stateroom.

"I don't dare to meet Nan Burgess just now," she told herself.
"Friendships can be broken by saying certain things--and I feel
perfectly capable of saying just those things to her at this moment."

In the late afternoon the _Olenia_, the shore-line looming to starboard,
shaped her course to meet and pass a big steamer which came rolling down
the sea with a banner of black smoke flaunting behind her.

The fog which Captain Mayo had predicted was coming. Wisps of it trailed
over the waves--skirmishers sent ahead of the main body which marched in
mass more slowly behind.

A whistling buoy, with its grim grunt, told all mariners to 'ware Razee
Reef, which was lifting its jagged, black bulk against the sky-line.
With that fog coming, Captain Mayo needed to take exact bearings from
Razee, for he had decided to run for harbor that night. That coastline,
to whose inside course Marston's orders had sent the yacht, was too
dangerous to be negotiated in a night which was fog-wrapped. Therefore,
the captain took the whistler nearly dead on, leaving to the larger
steamer plenty of room in the open sea.

With considerable amazement Mayo noticed that the other fellow was
edging toward the whistler at a sharper angle than any one needed. That
course, if persisted in, would pinch the yacht in dangerous waters. Mayo
gave the on-coming steamer one whistle, indicating his intention to pass
to starboard. After a delay he was answered by two hoarse hoots--a most
flagrant breach of the rules of the road.

"That must be a mistake," Captain Mayo informed Mate McGaw.

"That's a polite name for it, sir," averred Mr. McGaw, after he