"I do." And M. Lemaire was gone, swallowed up in the increasing throng.

As Jack Benson brought the glass of water Mlle. Nadiboff sipped at it
daintily. Raising her eyes so that she could read the placard now
suspended from the balcony rail, she announced:

"The next number is a waltz, Captain Benson. Truly, I am eager to know
how you waltz. It is a sailor's measure."

"Then perhaps you will favor me with a waltz, later in the evening,"
returned Jack, courteously. "But if I had the impudence to ask you
for this waltz, and if you were generous enough to grant it to me, I
know what would happen."

"What, my friend?"

The word "friend" was gently spoken, but Jack Benson replied bluntly:

"Some of the men here would lynch me, later in the night, Mlle.
Nadiboff."

The young woman laughed musically, though, as Jack glanced away for an
instant, a frown flashed briefly over her face.

"You will not disappoint me, I know, Captain," she murmured,
persuasively. "Besides, you are too brave to fear lynching for an act
that grants pleasure."

This was so direct that Jack Benson could not well escape. Nor, truth