ch?" asked the tall man.

"An hour or so," said Heinrich.

"It was old man Abernethy; he's harmless," said the tall fellow. "He's
the only person that's been aboard her in years."

"There was someone else," persisted Heinrich. "Someone who was talking
to Abernethy."

The tall man mumbled something about having been a fool not to buy her
before this; Cleggett did not catch all of the remark. Then the tall
fellow said:

"We'll go aboard, Heinrich, and take a look around."

With that they advanced towards the vessel. Cleggett stepped on deck
from the cabin companionway, and both men stopped short at the sight of
him, Heinrich obviously a trifle confused, but the other one in no wise
abashed. He made no attempt, this tall fellow, to give the situation a
casual turn. What he did was to stand and stare at Cleggett, candidly,
and with more than a touch of insolence, as if trying to beat down
Cleggett's gaze.

Cleggett, staring in his turn, perceived that the tall man, ungainly as
he was, affected a bizarre individualism in the matter of dress. His
clothing cried out, rather than suggested, that it was expensive. His
feet were cased in button shoes with fancy tops; his waistcoat, cut in
the extreme of style, revealed that little strip of white which falsely
advertises a second waistcoat beneath, but in his case the strip was
too broad. There were diamonds on the fingers of both powerful hands.
But the thing that grated particularly upon Cleggett was the character
of the man's scarfpin. It was by far the largest ornament of the sort
that Cleggett had ever seen; he was near enough to the fellow to make
out that it had been carved from a piece of solid ivory in the likeness
of a skull. In the eyeholes of the skull two opals flamed with an evil
levin. The man suggested to Cleggett, at first glance, a bartender who
had come into money, or a drayman who had been promoted to an important
office in a labor union and was spending the most of a considerable
salary on his person. And yet his face, more closely observed, somehow
gave the lie to his clothes, for it was not lacking in the signs of
intelligence. In spite of his taste, or rather lack of taste, there
was no hint of weakness in his physiognomy. His features were harsh,
bold, predatory; a slightly yellowish tinge about the temples and cheek
bones, suggestive of the ivory ornament, proclaimed a bilious
temperament.

Cleggett, both puzzled and nettled by the man'