t, he dismissed her, kindly but with
great firmness, and she was as obedient as a lamb.

Anthony Andover, who knew more about plows perhaps than the Egyptians,
gave him something else to think about. He looked up from his
instruments that evening to see a young man of medium height, slim of
build, and rather pale and sharp of mien.

"My name is Anthony Andover," he said in a brisk and business-like
voice. "I wonder if I could have a talk with you."

Peter told him to sit down, and he removed the heavy nickeled
head-pieces from his ears. He expected an important radio from the
Shanghai Station; but that could wait. He wondered what Anthony
Andover might have on his mind.

"Mr. Moore, I'm in something of a devil of a fix, and I think you're
the man who can get me out of it."

"Shoot," said Peter, lighting a yellow cigarette and passing the box.
"Chinks?" Trouble to Peter always meant Chinks; they were his symbol
of danger.

"No, no! You see, all of my life I've been--well, a city man. The
biggest adventure I ever had was a fist fight with my foreman. Now----"

"Did you lick him?" asked Peter with concern.

Anthony nodded reminiscently. "Blacked his eyes and busted his nose!"

"Good for you! Go ahead with your story."

"I've met a girl on the steamer, and according to her way of looking at
things, I lack about five thousand different parts of being a hero.
You know the girl. That's why I'm bothering you like this."

"Not bothering me a bit. Who's the girl?"

"Peggy." Anthony caressed the word as if it were honey. "Peggy
Whipple. Of course, the first thing I want to make sure of is, am I
stepping on anybody's toes? If I am, I'll just go ahead, and play my
own game my own way. If it's to be a case of a fight----"

"Hold on a moment," interrupted Peter. "I don't quite follow you.
Whose toes do you think you're stepping on?"

"Well, Peggy comes up here to the wireless shack so much, that I--I----"

"Oh, not a bit of it, old man. Peggy's a nice girl. I like her.
That's all."

"I--I'm mighty glad," said Anthony earnestly. "You know, she's pretty
mad about you, but as long as you're not interested the way I am,
well----" He bit his lip nervously, and went on: "I think you'd agree
with me that it would be rather foolish of her, and very disappointing
and disillusioning later on for her to marry the kind of a man she
thinks she wants to marry. She has a notion that the man she marries
must