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E WASTED the better part of an hour in fruitless inquiries: then his luck led him down a poorly lighted wharf, at the end of which he discovered a young man perched atop a pile, hands in pockets, gaze turned seaward, lips pursed—whistling. At the sound of footsteps this person turned to appraise the stranger, then, reassured, resumed his harmonious diversion of melancholy, and with it his gloomy stare across the water.

"Pardon me," Alan ventured, "perhaps you can help me out"

"You've come to the wrong shop, my friend," the young man interposed. "I couldn't help anybody out."

"I thought possibly you might know where I could charter a seaworthy boat."

"What kind of a boat?" the young man demanded.

"Anything moderately fast, well-found and able, with accommodations for two passengers—one a lady." The young man slipped down from his perch. 51