it looked on one of the deep's wonders. The sea must have swallowed her and spat her up again, and those who said this had in mind that tramps which fly the dragon cloth are the unsweetest things upon big waters.

Yet not only through stress of storm had he weathered her, but through a mutiny whose blood rusted her decks. Without mates and alone save for a big Cantonese serang he had done this thing and then come silently ashore to nurse his wounds.

Presently Whitridge stood at the head of the line. A man who looked ill and who told the booking clerk with a nervous laugh that he hadn't seen "the home country" in twenty years gave way to him.

"Now, sir, your pleasure," said the clerk.

"Oh," answered Whitridge as if bringing his thoughts from a great distance. "I wish to—to book on the Cambodia, please."

"She's pretty full, sir," said the clerk, with a doubtful shake of the head and turning away to get a stateroom diagram.

A momentary hush fell on the crowd.

"Gad!" exclaimed a young Englishman standing beside Whitridge.

Turning, Whitridge followed the man's glance toward the agency entrance.

A woman with hair of the color of gold that has been washed in sea water was coming in out of the sunshine of the radiant March morning. A picture hat of rough bronze straw accentuated the wealth and beauty of her wonderful crown. A long, loose tan coat with full sleeves, made her appear a shade taller than she really was, but her erect, healthy carriage threw the garment about her in clinging folds which softened its fashionable modernness.

She paused for a second, a tilt of inquiry to her vivid head. Then she moved swiftly to the desk where Whitridge was standing.

"I have a letter—I wish to see the director—the manager, please," she said to the clerk in a low, well-bred voice.

Looking up, the clerk gave a start of surprise, recovered himself quickly, and indicated a door to the left. She opened it and passed inside followed by a woman in black, evidently a maid. The clerk's eyes trailed after her with something of awe in them. There was hardly a glance in the room which was not turned in the same direction.

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