swung on its davits.

"And the mate, Mr. Singleton?"

"He is in the forward house."

"What did you do with the--the weapon?"

"Why do you ask that?"

"Morbid curiosity," she said, with a lightness of tone that rang
false to my ears. "And then--naturally, I should like to be sure
that it is safely overboard, so it will not be"--she shivered--"
used again."

"It is not overboard, Mrs. Johns," I said gravely. "It is locked in
a safe place, where it will remain until the police come to take it."

"You are rather theatrical, aren't you?" she scoffed, and turned away.
But a second later she came back to me, and put her hand on my arm.
"Tell me where it is," she begged. "You are making a mystery of it,
and I detest mysteries."

I saw under her mask of lightness then: she wanted desperately to
know where the axe was. Her eyes fell, under my gaze.

"I am sorry. There is no mystery. It is simply locked away for
safe-keeping."

She bit her lip.