speak, we'll look into it. I guess we've got far enough ahead with our moving to take the time." 

 Drew, who was burning with curiosity and impatience, agreed with him heartily. 

 The chest had split close to the lock, so that it was an easy matter after a minute or two of manipulation to throw the cover back. 

 A musty, discolored coat lay on top, and Tyke was just about to lift this out when Winters stuck his head into the office. 

 "Some one to see you, sir," he announced. 

 Tyke gave a little grunt of impatience. 

 "Tell him I'm busy," he snapped. Then he caught himself up.  "Wait a minute," he said.  "Did he tell you his name?" 

 "No, sir," returned Winters.  "But I'll find out." In a moment he was back.  "Captain Rufus Hamilton, he says." 

 The petulant expression on Grimshaw's face changed instantly to one of pleasure. 

 "Bring him right in," he ordered. 

 Drew, thinking that Grimshaw would wish to see his friend alone, rose to follow Winters. 

 "I suppose we'll put this off until after he's gone," he remarked. 

 But his employer motioned to him to remain. 

 "Stay right where you are," he directed.  "Cap'n Rufe is one of the best friends I have, and I'm glad he came jest now." 

 The door opened again, and Winters ushered in a powerfully built man who seemed to be about fifty years of age. He had piercing blue eyes, a straight nose with wide nostrils, and a square jaw, about which were lines that spoke of decision and the habit of command. His face was bronzed by exposure to the weather, and his brown hair was graying at the temples. There was something open and sincere about the man that caused Drew to like him at once. 

 The newcomer stepped briskly forward, and Tyke met him half way, gripping his hand in the warmest kind of welcome. 

 "Well met, Cap'n!" cried Tyke.  "I haven't seen you in a dog's age. I was jest wondering the other day what had become of you. There's nobody in the world I'd rather see. What good wind blew you to this 

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