is to get
through his shell to the real Martin underneath. He is lonely and
miserable inside, I know, and the right kind of girl, one that would
treat him right, would make life Heaven for him, and herself too."

"Yes, and the wrong kind would make it...."

"She would," interrupted Dorothy hastily, "but Peggy's the right kind.
Wouldn't it be fine to have Martin and Peggy as happy, almost, as you
and I are?"

"All right, girlie, I'm with you," he answered, embracing her as though
he intended never to let her go, "but you'd better go get some
sleep--you're all in."

Considerably later, when Dorothy had finally gone, Seaton settled
himself for the long vigil. Promptly at the end of the twelve hours
Crane appeared, alert of eye and of bearing.

"You look fresh as a daisy, Mart. Feeling fit?"

"Fit as the proverbial fiddle. I could not have slept any better or
longer if I had had a week off. Seven hours and a half is a luxury, you
know."

"All wrong, old top. I need eight every night, and I'm going to take
about ten this time."

"Go to it, twelve if you like. You have earned it."

Seaton stumbled to his room and slept as though in a trance for ten
hours. Rising, he took his regular morning exercises and went into the
saloon. All save Martin were there, but he had eyes only for his
sweetheart, who was radiantly beautiful in a dress of deep bronze-brown.

"Good morning, Dick," she hailed him joyously. "You woke up just in
time--we are all starving again, and were just going to eat without
you!"

"Good morning, everybody. I would like to eat with you, Dottie, but I've
got to relieve Martin. How'd it be for you to bring breakfast into the
engine room and cheer my solitude, and let Crane eat with the others?"

"Fine--that's once you had a good idea, if you never have another!"

After the meal DuQuesne, who abhorred idleness with all his vigorous
nature, took the watches of the party and went upstairs to the "shop,"
which was a completely-equipped mechanical laboratory, to repair them.
Seaton stayed at the board, where Dorothy joined him as a matter of
course. Crane and Margaret sat down at one of the windows.

She told him her story, frankly and fully, shuddering with horror as she
recalled the awful, helpless fall, during which Perkins had met his end.

"Dick and I have a heavy score to settle with that Steel crowd and with
DuQuesne," Crane said slowly. "We have no evidence that will hold in
law, but some day