jacket was open, and he carried a brand new,
though somewhat shapeless pan-ama hat in his hand. Evidently he had
ceased fanning himself with it at the moment of entering the captain's
presence. The keen, good-looking face was warm and moist as the result
of a most violent soaping. He wore corduroy riding-breeches, cavalry
boots that betrayed their age in spite of a late polishing at the hands
of an energetic and carefully directed bootblack, and a broad leather
belt from which only half an eye was required to see that a holster had
been detached with a becoming regard for neatness. His hair was thick
and sun-bleached; his eyes, dark and unafraid, met the stern gaze of
the captain with directness and respect; his lips and chin were firm in
repose, but they might easily be the opposite if relaxed; his skin was
so tanned and wind-bitten that the whites of his eyes were startlingly
defined and vivid. He was not a tall man,--indeed, one would have been
justified in suspecting him of being taller than he really was because
of the more or less deceiving erectness with which he carried himself.
As a matter of fact, he was not more than five feet ten or ten and a
half.

Captain Trigger eyed him narrowly for a moment.

"What is your name?"

"A. A. Percival, sir."

"Your full name, young man. No initials."

The stowaway seemed to add an inch to his height before replying.

"Algernon Adonis Percival, sir," he said, a very clear note of defiance
in his voice.

The Captain looked at the First Officer, and the First Officer, after a
brief stare at the speaker, looked at the Captain.

"It's his right name, you can bet, sir," said Mr. Mott, with conviction.
"Nobody would voluntarily give himself a name like that."

"You never can tell about these Americans, Mr. Mott," said the Captain
warily. "They've got what they call a keen sense of humour, you know."

Mr. Percival smiled. His teeth were very white and even.

"I am a first and only child," he explained. "That ought to account for
it, sir," he went on, a trifle defensively.

Captain Trigger did not smile. Mr. Mott, however, looked distinctly
sympathetic.

"You say you are an American,--a citizen of the United States?" demanded
the former.

"Yes, sir. My home is in Baltimore."

"Baltimore?" repeated Mr. Mott quickly. "That's where Mr. Gray hails
from, sir," he added, as a sort of apology to the Captain for the
exclamation.

The Captain's gaze settled on the stowawa