"Then I'm hoping that there won't be any hard feelings one way or the other. I have lost my schooner by my blasted foolishness. So I'll say good-by and--"

"Good-by?" demanded Mayo, showing his astonishment. "Why are you saying good-by to me now?"

"Because you are going aboard your yacht."

"The rest of you are going there, too."

"It ain't for poor critters like us to go mussing--"

"Look here, Captain Candage, I am the captain of that yacht, and I say that you are coming on board and stay until I can set you ash.o.r.e at the handiest port."

"I'd just as lieve wait for that fisherman, sir. I'll feel more at home aboard him."

"You ought to think of your daughter's condition first, Captain Candage.

She needs a few comforts right away, and you won't find them on board a fisherman."

He turned to the girt who sat on the keel, silent, looking away to sea.

She seemed to show a strange lack of interest in the yacht. Her pretty face exhibited no emotion, but somehow she was a wistfully pathetic figure as she sat there. Mayo's countenance showed much more concern than she expressed when she faced about at the sound of his voice and looked at him. Color came into his cheeks; there was embarra.s.sment in his eyes, a queer hesitancy in his tones.

"There is a young lady--there are several young ladies--but there is Mr.

Marston's daughter!" he faltered. "She is on the yacht. I--I know she will do all she can for you. She will be good to you!" His eyes fell under her frank and rather quizzical gaze.

"She might not care to be bothered with such a ragam.u.f.fin."

"I can speak for her!" he cried, eagerly. He was now even more disturbed by the glance she gave him. He had read that women have intuition in affairs of the heart.

"I am quite certain you can, Captain Mayo," she a.s.sured him, demurely.

"And I am grateful. But perhaps we'd be better off on board that other vessel--father and the rest of us."

"I insist," he said, but he did not dare to meet her searching eyes. "I insist!" he repeated, resuming the decisive manner which he had shown before on board the _Polly_.

The _Olenia_, slowing down, had come close aboard, and her churning screws pulled her to a standstill. Her crew sent a tender rattling down from her port davits. As she rolled on the surge her bra.s.s rails caught the sunlight in long flashes which fairly blinded the hollow eyes of the castaways. The white canvas of bridge and awnings gleamed in snowy purity. She was so near that Dolph smelled the savory scents from her galley and began to "suffle" moisture in the corners of his mouth.

They who waited on the barnacled hulk of the Polly, faint with hunger, bedraggled with brine, unkempt and wholly miserable after a night of toils and vigil, felt like beggars at a palace gate as they surveyed her immaculateness.

A sort of insolent opulence seemed to exude from her. Mayo, her captain though he was, felt that suggestion of insolence more keenly than his companions, for he had had bitter and recent experience with the moods of Julius Marston.

He did not find Marston a comforting object for his gaze; the transportation magnate was pacing the port alley with a stride that was plainly impatient. Close beside the gangway stood Alma Marston, spotless in white duck. Each time her father turned his back on her she put out her clasped hands toward her lover with a furtive gesture.

Polly Candage watched this demonstration with frank interest, and occasionally stole side-glances at the face of the man who stood beside her on the schooner's bottom; he was wholly absorbed in his scrutiny of the other girl.

Mate McGaw himself was at the tiller of the tender. His honest face was working with emotion, and he began to talk before the oarsmen had eased the boat against the overturned hulk.

"I haven't closed my eyes, Captain Mayo. Stayed up all night, trying to figure it out. Almost gave up all notion that you were aboard the schooner. You didn't hail the boat we sent out."

"I tried to do it; perhaps you couldn't hear me."

Captain Candage's countenance showed grat.i.tude and relief.

"This morning I tried Lumbo and two other shelters, and then chased along the trail of the blow."

Mayo trod carefully down the bilge and clasped the mate's hand. "I was looking for you, Mr. McGaw. I know what kind of a chap you are."

McGaw, still holding to the captain's hand, spoke in lower tones. "Had a devil of a time with the owner, sir. He was bound to have it that you had deserted."

"I was afraid he would think something of the sort."

The mate showed frank astonishment. "You was afraid of _what?_ Why, sir, I wanted to tell him that he was a crazy man to have any such ideas about you! Yes, sir, I came nigh telling him that! I would have done it if I hadn't wanted to keep mild and meek whilst I was arguing with him and trying to make him give me leave to search!"

"We have had a terrible time of it, Mr. McGaw," stated Mayo, avoiding the mate's inquisitiveness. "I am going to take these folks on board and set them ash.o.r.e."

"Ay, sir, of course."

The two of them stood with clasped hands and held the tender close to the wreck until the pa.s.sengers embarked. When they reached the foot of the _Olenia_'s steps Captain Mayo sent his guests ahead of him.

Marston paused in his march and scowled, and the folks on the quarter-deck crowded to the rail, showing great interest.

Captain Mayo exchanged a long look with Alma Marston when he came up the steps. Love, pity, and greeting were in his eyes. Her countenance revealed her vivid emotions; she was overwrought, unstrung, half-crazed after a night spent with her fears. When he came within her reach caution was torn from her as gossamer is flicked away by a gale. Impulse had always governed her; she gave way to it then.

"I don't care," she sobbed. "I love you. They may as well know it!"

Before he understood her intentions or could prevent her rashness she flung her arms about his neck and kissed him repeatedly.

Marston stood in his tracks like a man stricken by paralysis; his cigar dropped from his open mouth. This exhibition under his very nose, with his guests and the whole crew of his yacht looking on, fairly stunned him.

"If you had died I would have died!" she wailed.

Then her father plunged toward her, elbowing the astonished Beveridge out of his way.

Captain Mayo gently unhooked the arms of the frantic girl from about his neck and stepped forward, putting himself between father and daughter.

He was not taking sensible thought in the matter; he was prompted by an instinctive impulse to protect her.

Mayo had no word ready at his tongue's end, and Mar-ston's anathema was m.u.f.fled and incoherent. The girl's rash act had tipped over the sane and manly self-possession of both of them. The captain was too bewildered to comprehend the full enormity of his action in standing guard over the daughter of Julius Marston, as if she needed protection on her father's quarter-deck. He did not move to one side of the alley when Marston jerked an impatient gesture.

"I want to say that I am wholly to blame, sir," he faltered. "I hope you will overlook--"

"Are you presuming to discuss my daughter's insanity with me?" He noticed that the sailors were preparing to hoist the tender to the davits. "Drop that boat back into the water!" he shouted. There was an ugly rasp in his voice, and for a moment it seemed as if he were about to lose control of himself. Then he set a check on his temper and tongue, though his face was deathly white and his eyes were as hard as marbles. Resolve to end further exhibition in this incredible business dominated his wrathful shame.

"If you will set us ash.o.r.e--" pleaded Mayo.

"Get back into that boat, you and your gang, whatever it is!"

"Mr. Marston, this young woman needs--"

"Get into that boat, or I'll have the bunch of you thrown overboard!"

The owner spoke in low tones, but his furious determination was apparent.

"We will go without being thrown, sir. Will you order us set aboard that fisherman?" He pointed to the little schooner which was almost within hailing distance.