sailing a sloop that I have. Curtis is my name.”

Jack and Hal introduced themselves in turn.

Curtis’s shack proved to be well away from the village proper, and down
near the waterfront. A light shone from a window near the front door as
the three approached the small dwelling.

“I think I can interest you for an hour, gentlemen,” declared the bearded
one, as he slipped a key in the lock of the door.

He admitted them to a little room off the hallway, a room that contained
not much beyond a table and four chairs, a side-table and some of the
accessories of the smoker.

“Just take a seat here,” proposed Curtis, “while I get some sarsaparilla
for you. I’ll be right back in a moment.”

It was four or five minutes before Curtis came back, bearing a tray on
which were three tall glasses, each containing a brownish liquid.

“The stuff isn’t iced, yet it’s fairly cold,” the bearded one explained.
“Well, gentlemen, here’s to a pleasant evening!”

Hal, who was thirsty, took a long swallow of the sarsaparilla, finding the
flavor excellent. Jack drank more slowly, though he enjoyed the beverage.

“If you don’t mind,” suggested Curtis, “I will light a cigar. And say, by
the way, gentlemen, what if we take a little walk down to my beach? Before
showing you the models I spoke of, I’d like to have your opinion of the