that indicated his desire to please a person of some importance. She paused uncertainly as her lips framed a "No," but meeting Whitridge's gaze again she gave a nod of decision.

"I will accept. You are rendering me a service greater than you know," she said gratefully and there was a brilliance as of tears in her eyes. "I thank you—very much."

The manager, beaming with delight, thanked Whitridge and led her back to his private office. At the threshold she paused and turned to surprise Whitridge's gaze fixed hungrily upon her. A smile with which she intended to thank him died on her lips. A startled look came into her eyes. She did not move until he turned toward the clerk, who was asking him for a record for the customs' clearance.

"Paul Whitridge, thirty-four, master mariner—British subject," he said, and the clerk recalled afterward the strange hesitancy with which he gave his name and nationality.

The manager reappeared at this moment and began reading a memorandum to the clerk: "Miss Emily Granville, twenty-four—American." Whitridge gave a barely perceptible start of surprise as the name fell from the manager's lips. He compressed his eyes as if to shut out some unpleasant thought or memory. The manager threw the slip of paper on the desk. "You can make it out, Burr. It's all there. Book her and the maid that way," he said. Then, turning to Whitridge, he went on: "I'm mightily obliged to you, sir. I'll send a note to the ship asking to have special care taken of you. She is one of the big stockholders in the Western Line. Cables came last night for her—she's just down from Tokyo. Some business trouble at home—trustee of her estate dead. Something like that. Must get home immediately. Can't bear to travel in inside rooms. She—her——"

"It's all right," Whitridge said, cutting him off. "I'm glad to have been able to do it."

He spoke with an indication of impatience in tone and manner. Without another word he gathered up his tickets and went out of the agency. The manager and clerk wished him a pleasant voyage, but if he heard them he made no sign.

"Devilish strange sort," said the manager in surprise.

"I should say so. I think he's the captain that brought that wreck of a Chink tramp in here a couple of months ago," answered the clerk.

"Indeed!" With this exclamation of surprise the manager hurried back to his office where Emily Granville was waiting and thinking of the 

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