o anything. It would take a lot of strong men to come on board this
yacht and get us off, and the girls wouldn't be able to do anything at
all."

She was not left long on the yacht's deck. Almost at once she was
carried below, and in a few minutes she found herself in a cabin, where
the handkerchief was taken from her eyes. The cabin was a pretty one,
but Bessie was in no mood to appreciate that. She hated the sight of its
luxury; all she wanted was to be back with the girls on the beach, no
matter how great the discomfort after the fire might be.

Zara, who had not yet revived, was brought down after her and laid on a
sofa. Then she and Bessie were left alone with the big man who had
carried Bessie from the beach. She thought that he was Jeff, the man who
had left the two faithless sentinels to watch the path from the cliff.
And she noticed, to her surprise, that, though his speech and manners
were rough, there was a look about him that was not unkindly.

"Now, see here, sis," he said, gently enough, "we don't aim to treat you
badly here. You've run away from home, and that's not right. We're going
to see that you get back to them as has the best right to look after
you, but we don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"How can I help it?" asked Bessie, indignantly.

"Just you behave yourself and keep quiet, and you'll be all right," said
Jeff. Bessie was sure of his identity now. "You'll have this pretty room
here to yourselves, and you'll have lots to eat. It'll be better food
than you got with that pack of chattering girls, too. We'll up anchor
and be off pretty soon, and then you can come up on deck and have a good
time. But as long as we're here, why, you'll have to stay below."

Bessie got her first gleam of hope from that speech. If they stayed in
Green Cove a little while, there was always the chance that something
might happen.

"You see, sis," said Jeff, with a grin, "after a while your folks there
will find you're missing, and, like enough, they'll suspicion that we
done it; took you off, I mean. 'Twouldn't make no great difference if
they did know it," Jeff went on. "But the boss thinks it's just as well
if we throw them off a bit--guess he wants to have some fun with them."

"Who is your 'boss'?" asked Bessie, quickly. "I should think you would
be ashamed of yourself, treating girls who can't fight back this way! Do
you call yourself a man?"

"Easy there, sis!" said Jeff, with a roar of laughter. "You