uest's baggage.

"Have you got an outside room?" demanded Trask of the drowsing
English clerk behind the railing, as he pulled the register toward
him and scanned the open page.

"I say! Mr. Trask!"

The young man looked up. "Correct," he said. "Where did we----?"

"I'm Wilkins, sir, G. O. H., Colombo. You were there last year,
sir, in from Singapore. You had an argument with a 'rickshaw man. I
was managing the bar at the time."

"Sure enough, Wilkins! How d'ye do!" and Trask extended a hand
which Wilkins shook with fervour, striking a bell with the other
for the Chinese bar-boy.

"Two stone gingers with a finger of Scotch," said Wilkins. "Fine
room on the bay-side, Mr. Trask. And you'll find it quiet enough."

"It does look quiet for you," said Trask, as he wrote his name in
the register and took off his helmet. It was plain that the tropics
had put their mark upon him, for in contrast to the deep tan of
burnt umber over cheeks and chin, the upper part of his forehead
showed a white band of skin, the helmet line of the veteran
traveller in low latitudes. His black eyes were embedded in nests
of tiny wrinkles, the "tropical squint," which no mere _griffin_
ever has as a passport.

"Yes, sir," said Wilkins. "The China boat cleaned the place up this
morning. Not a tripper left."

"No?" cried Trask, with sudden concern. He turned to the register
again and flopped back the pages. "You must have a man here named
Locke, an American, travelling with his daughter."

"Gone," said Wilkins. "Left on the _Taming_ to catch the Pacific
Mail at Hong Kong."

"If that isn't my blooming luck!" moaned Trask, shutting the
register with a slam and turning his back to the desk, a picture of
limp despair.

"Yes, sir," continued Wilkins, coming out from behind his barrier,
"the Lockes left here Friday for Dagupan, to be back in time to
sail this noon. They must have caught the _Taming_. I sent their
spare trunks down this morning to be held for Mr. Locke. He wasn't
to come back here, but go right aboard from the morning train.
Friends of yours?"

"Yes. We were shipmates from Honolulu coming out, three months
back."

"Very respectable people," said Wilkins. "I understand Mr. Locke's
quite wealthy."

"I imagine so," replied Trask, despondently. It was hard luck, for
he had managed to take a month's vacation for no other purpose than
to meet Marjorie Locke for a few days in Manila and here he was,
like a man marooned, with