d is _very_ good
company!"

He looked the other way to hide his embarrassment, as the girl spoke.

"I feel the same way. We have enjoyed being together, and perhaps when
we are better acquainted the stiffness will disappear. We both feel odd,
because we were required to marry!"

The strange man laughed out loud at this. "In other words you _might_
have fallen in love, if you had been allowed time to do it. But _having_
to marry creates an entirely different feeling. I believe it will work
out well, even though you feel cheated at the moment. But we haven't any
time to lose. Everyone is at the dock and we sail in two hours.

"Here are your instructions, Dick. From now on _you_ give the orders,
and I remain in the background. They will all feel more comfortable
under the command of one of their own race. Study everything carefully
on the way to the dock, then give them as your own orders."

Dick had little time for anything except to look through the sheaf of
papers. On one sheet was a list of seven couples, with stateroom numbers
beside each. His own was on the top, with number three room. This he
dropped in a side pocket where it would be easy to find. The remainder
was in connection with sailing.

Dick, Dolores and the big-headed man occupied one cab, while the baggage
followed in another. Dolores had obtained quite a wardrobe, much to the
amusement of her employer. But the man spoke only once during the trip.

"Everyone in the party must consider that they work for you, Dick. You
must hear all complaints and settle all differences. They must not
approach me for any reason. I am known as Morquil, of section one, which
you will understand when we reach our destination."

The crew was hurrying back and forth on the deck of the small ship,
taking care of last-minute details. A group of people were gathered
beside a huge stack of baggage, and Dick walked toward them without
waiting for the others.

Dolores went up the gangplank beside Morquil, helping him slightly. He
seemed to have difficulty in supporting his enormous head with the
slight body.

As Dick reached the group, he read the names from the list in his hand.
"Mr. and Mrs. John McCarthy. You are in stateroom number seven. Take
what baggage you can carry, the rest will be put on board." He called
each name and stateroom; they headed for the ship. John McCarthy he
found was the man he had met in the office, and he _still_ had his
perpetual grin. Evidentl