eparated, and the engineer sprang into a passing street car, and
with a "so long, Jim," disappeared. Jim reached the wharves through
another street, secured a rowboat and started on his quest, which
occupied his time for several hours.

It was a little after the appointed time when Jim arrived at the
designated meeting place coming from across the bay in his boat.

"Call this five o'clock?" grumbled the engineer, when he joined him a
moment later. "I was beginning to think that gorilla Broome had gobbled
you at last. I have been hanging around for the last hour waiting for
you. Well, what luck?"

"Found some makeshifts, but not just what I want. How was it with you?"

"Failed entirely."

"Well, get into the boat," directed Jim, "and we will talk things over
as we go along."

"Where are you going now?"

"Out to take a look for the Sea Eagle, and see if she is still there."

"You haven't told me what you found," persisted Berwick.

"One thing I am sure of, I lost that fellow Manuel."

"See anything of him?"

"Not a thing. Maybe he was after you instead of me."

"Heaven forbid," ejaculated Berwick, with a half glance backward.

"So you did not find a ship for us?" repeated Jim.

"There doesn't seem to be anything in port that we can get. Just missed
getting one, though. Martinex sold a ship this morning that would have
just suited us."

"That's tough," sighed Jim. "We have got to have one before Broome gets
away."

"Don't know where you are going to get it."

"Neither do I," returned Jim. "But we are like the boy and the hedgehog,
'We have just got to get one.'"

By this time they had come within sight of where the Sea Eagle lay
riding quietly at her anchor, but not going close enough to be
recognized by any on board who might be on the watch.

"There isn't any signs of their getting ready to sail," decided Jim,
after a few moments study of the yacht. "So I think we are safe for
another day."

"There is something that would suit us to a T," remarked Berwick on
their way back, indicating a trim looking schooner-rigged yacht. "She's
a beauty," he observed enthusiastically.

The yacht seemed to rest as lightly upon the water as a sea bird. Long,
low, with not too much freeboard, it rose and fell on the waves, tugging
at the anchor chains as though impatient to slip her leash and bound
away on her course. It was painted in a pale metallic yellow that
glittered in the rays of the setting sun like gold