lot--I had time to think when I was out aboard that
steamer, waiting."

"There's only one girl for you to think about," she chided.

His face clouded. "And it's the kind of thinking that isn't healthy for
a man with a normal mind. Thank the Lord, I've got some real work to
think about now--and the cash to do that work with." He fondled his
pocket.

She went with him to the wharf, and when the schooner slid to sea behind
Hue and Cry her white handkerchief gave him final salute and silent
God-speed.

Captain Boyd Mayo, back in Limeport once more, was not the cowed,
apologetic, pleading suppliant who had solicited the water-front
machinists and ship-yard owners a few days before. He proffered
no checks for them to look askance at. He pulled a wallet that was
plethoric with new yellowbacks. He showed his money often, and with a
purpose. He drove sharp bargains while he held it in view. He received
offers of credit in places where before he had been denied. Such magic
does visible wealth exert in the dealings between men!

He did not come across Fletcher Fogg in Limeport, and he was glad of
that. Somebody informed him that the magnate had gone back to New York.
It was manifest to Mayo that in his contempt Fogg had decided that the
salvaging of the _Conomo_ intact had been relegated to the storehouse of
dreams. His purpose would be suited if she were junked, so the young
man realized. Only the _Conomo_ afloat, a successful pioneer in new
transportation experiments alongcoast, would threaten his vested
interests.

There had been wintry winds and intervening calms in the days since
Mayo had been prosecuting his projects ashore. But by word of mouth from
straying fishermen and captains of packets he had been assured that the
steamer still stuck on Razee.

And when at last he was equipped he went forth from Limeport; he went
blithely, although he knew that a Titan's job faced him. He kept his own
counsel as to what he proposed to do with the steamer. He even allowed
the water-front gossips to guess, unchallenged, that he was going to
junk the wreck. He was not inviting more of that brazen hostility that
characterized the operations of Fogg and his hirelings.

He was at the wheel of a husky lighter which he had chartered; the rest
of the crew he supplied from his own men. The lighter was driven by its
own power, and carried a good pump and a sturdy crane; its decks were
loaded high with coal. The schooner was now merely