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70 affirmed. "I'm as wet as I mean to be for the next twenty-four hours."

A moment later the line of little flames went out, and the owner of the late Seaventure fancied he could hear the hiss of smouldering timbers sucked under and drowned out.

"Exit," he announced moodily, "exit Seaventure. R. I. P.—a good little ship!"

"Oh, let up, can't you?" Mr. Law exclaimed peevishly. "I'm sorrier than you are—and, after all, it's my loss: I've got to buy you another boat. All you've actually lost is your temper."

"And my susceptibility to the charms of the sex," Mr. Barcus corrected. "Nothing can ever restore my lost faith in woman's gentleness. When you brought aboard that young woman I thought butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, and first thing I know she ups and points a gun at my head and tips me overboard, and then makes a pretty bonfire out of my sailboat."

For a moment the two maintained attentive silence. Then a little flutter of sound came from across the water. Gradually it gathered volume, and became recognizable as the lisp of cautious oars.

"I'm going away from here," Mr. Barcus announced firmly.

"Half a second," Alan Law pleaded. "I've got a scheme."