NO SHORE leave was granted the crew of the Halfmoon while
the vessel lay off Honolulu, and deep and ominous were the
grumblings of the men. Only First Officer Ward and the
second mate went ashore. Skipper Simms kept the men busy
painting and holystoning as a vent for their pent emotions.

Billy Byrne noticed that the passenger had abandoned his
daylight strolls on deck. In fact he never once left his cabin
while the Halfmoon lay at anchor until darkness had fallen;
then he would come on deck, often standing for an hour at a
time with eyes fastened steadily upon the brave little yacht
from the canopied upper deck of which gay laughter and soft
music came floating across the still water.

When Mr. Ward and the second mate came to shore a
strange thing happened. They entered a third-rate hotel near
the water front, engaged a room for a week, paid in advance,
were in their room for half an hour and emerged clothed in
civilian raiment.

Then they hastened to another hostelry--a first-class one
this time, and the second mate walked ahead in frock coat
and silk hat while Mr. Ward trailed behind in a neat, blue
serge sack suit, carrying both bags.

At the second hotel the second mate registered as Henri
Theriere, Count de Cadenet, and servant, France. His first act
thereafter was to hand a note to the clerk asking that it be
dispatched immediately. The note was addressed to Anthony