he had come in a yacht. A meagre biography, truly; for the
yacht was most apparent; and the "Smith" not beyond a reasonable
guess before the revelation. Yet to the eye of Goodwin, who had seen
several things, there was a discrepancy between Smith and his yacht.
A bullet-headed man Smith was, with an oblique, dead eye and the
moustache of a cocktail-mixer. And unless he had shifted costumes
before putting off for shore he had affronted the deck of his correct
vessel clad in a pearl-gray derby, a gay plaid suit and vaudeville
neckwear. Men owning pleasure yachts generally harmonize better with
them.

Smith looked business, but he was no advertiser. He commented upon
the scenery, remarking upon its fidelity to the pictures in the
geography; and then inquired for the United States consul. Goodwin
pointed out the starred-and-striped bunting hanging above the little
consulate, which was concealed behind the orange-trees.

"Mr. Geddie, the consul, will be sure to be there," said Goodwin. "He
was very nearly drowned a few days ago while taking a swim in the
sea, and the doctor has ordered him to remain indoors for some time."

Smith plowed his way through the sand to the consulate, his
haberdashery creating violent discord against the smooth tropical
blues and greens.

Geddie was lounging in his hammock, somewhat pale of face and languid
in pose. On that night when the _Valhalla's_ boat had brought him
ashore apparently drenched to death by the sea, Doctor Gregg and his
other friends had toiled for hours to preserve the little spark of
life that remained to him. The bottle, with its impotent message, was
gone out to sea, and the problem that it had provoked was reduced
to a simple sum in addition--one and one make two, by the rule of
arithmetic; one by the rule of romance.

There is a quaint old theory that man may have two souls--a
peripheral one which serves ordinarily, and a central one which is
stirred only at certain times, but then with activity and vigour.
While under the domination of the former a man will shave, vote, pay
taxes, give money to his family, buy subscription books and comport
himself on the average plan. But let the central soul suddenly become
dominant, and he may, in the twinkling of an eye, turn upon the
partner of his joys with furious execration; he may change his
politics while you could snap your fingers; he may deal out deadly
insult to his dearest friend; he may get him, instanter, to a
mo