Rising on her elbow the young wife bent forward toward the photograph.
"Does it say that there," she asked doubtfully. "How did you guess
that?"

In his role as chorus the ship's doctor exclaimed with enthusiasm:
"Didn't I tell you? He's wonderful."

Ford cut him off impatiently. "You never saw a rail as high as
that except around a racetrack," he muttered. "And the badge in his
buttonhole and the angle of the stand all show--"

He interrupted himself to address the widow. "This is an owner's badge.
What was the name of his stable?"

"I don't know," she answered. She regarded the young man with sudden
uneasiness. "They only owned one horse, but I believe that gave them the
privilege of--"

"I see," exclaimed Ford. "Your husband is a bookmaker. But in London he
is a promoter of companies."

"So my friend tells me," said Mrs. Ashton. "She's just got back from
London. Her husband told her that Harry, my husband, was always at the
American bar in the Cecil or at the Salisbury or the Savoy." The girl
shook her head. "But a woman can't go looking for a man there," she
protested. "That's why I thought you--"

"That'll be all right," Ford assured her hurriedly. "It's a coincidence,
but it happens that my own work takes me to these hotels, and if your