oaned.

"Do you mean----"

"I only mean that you can make me lose her. If Alec MacNairne boards us
like a pirate, and yells for his Fay, I shall be discovered as a
perjured villain, just in the very hour when it's necessary for me to
appear most virtuous. Heavens! If this could only have happened
_afterwards_. Once I was sure of her, I'd have confessed everything, for
I could have made her understand how it was all done for her sake--for
love of her."

"And her stepsister," said Alb, bitterly, as he did to the wheel what
perhaps he would have liked to do to my throat.

"That was a mere boyish fancy," said I. "I love Nell Van Buren with a
man's love. You can stop this boat if you choose to be a revengeful
Albatross----"

"I shall not stop the boat," he said, in a grave, hard voice, which made
my tone sound light, almost humorous. "I shall not rob you of your
chance with her. If it depends upon me, you shall have it."

I really did admire Alb, as he stood there, not looking at me, but
straight ahead, as if into a blank future.

"Do you care for her a lot?" I asked, half remorsefully.

"Only more than for the rest of the world put together. But I tell you
honestly, I haven't had much hope lately. I suppose I was a conceited
ass to make up my mind that nothing should stop me from winning the
girl, in spite of herself. Well, she's punished me--shown me my folly.
But for all that, I regret nothing. If it were to do over again, I'd
come on board this boat and work for her as I have worked, even knowing
as I know now that she'd end by disliking me as much as she did in the
beginning. You're an attractive fellow to women, Starr."

"Phyllis preferred Robert," I said thoughtfully.

"Yes. I confess I hoped you and Miss Rivers would make a match: then I'd
have had nothing to fear from you in the other direction. But it wasn't
to be; and she and Bob van Buren will be perfectly happy. You needn't
fear I'll turn against you. Depend on me to do my best with the
boat--though of course you won't expect help in any other way."

"Of course not," I said.

"Nor need it, I suppose," he added, harshly.

"Perhaps we may be mistaken about the boat being Alec's," I said.

"We both know we're not," said he. "Still--there's my glass. Have a
squint through it."

I took up the binocular which the skipper always keeps handy, and had
the squint, as he recommended. It was not an encouraging squint, for,
though our follower had not been