nce, and it was easy to understand
most of them.

Presently he heard groans from the next berth, and a tall soldier came
over and looked in.

"What is the matter with you?" he said to the complaining youth lying
there.

"I'm sick, I'm going to die!" said a whining voice. "I have been down
in the engine-room until I am nearly cooked. I think my back is broken
too."

The listening man laughed.

"Not a bit of it, my boy!" he said. "You are tired out. That is what
ails you. You have soft muscles evidently. You will be all right
soon."

"I tell you I am about dead!" insisted the voice.

Zaidos listened, puzzled. There was a familiar sound in the tones, but
for the life of him he could not place the speaker.

"I tell you I am in a bad way!" insisted the unseen speaker. "I shall
appeal this matter to the King as soon as we land."

"That's a good idea," said a soldier, nodding. "When I came away I
left my tobacco pouch in barracks. I will appeal too. It is not to be
endured!"

"You don't understand," said the fellow. "I am Velo Kupenol, the head
of the house of Zaidos. I am a Count!"

The tall soldier nodded with a twinkle in his eye. Zaidos fell back in
his bunk with a gasp of surprise, and listened.

"Is that so?" said the soldier. "I heard of the death of Count Zaidos
the other day. So you are his heir, eh? I thought he had a son.
Where does he appear in this story of yours?"

"He is dead," said Velo. (It was he.) "He went to America, and has
not been heard from. So I am the heir. I shall appeal to the King, I
tell you!"

"All right; all right!" agreed the soldier, while the others, listening
near, laughed. "At least it is a pretty story, Count. Stick to it.
We like to hear you talk."

"Well, it is so, and I can prove it!"

"How?" said Zaidos, suddenly leaning over the edge of his bunk.

For a full minute Velo stared at him with bulging eyes.

"How will you prove it?" said Zaidos with a steady stare. He leaped to
his feet and, shoving the tall soldier out of his way, went to the
berth and thrust his furious face close to his cousin's.

"You won't prove anything!" he said in a low, tense tone. "You have
made a fool of yourself and of me. I won't have my father's name
dragged into this mess. I'm here as Zaidos, the stoker; and you will
forget Zaidos of Saloniki as fast as ever you can. And if I find you
telling anything more, I will thrash you, Velo Kupenol, within an inch