standing moodily by the rail.

"Is this it? Is this where you're going?"

Carlyle shrugged his shoulders carelessly.

"You've got me." He raised his voice and called up to the acting
skipper: "Oh, Babe, is this your island?"

The mulatto's miniature head appeared from round the corner of
the deck-house.

"Yas-suh! This yeah's it."

Carlyle joined Ardita.

"Looks sort of sporting, doesn't it?"

"Yes," she agreed; "but it doesn't look big enough to be much of
a hiding-place."

"You still putting your faith in those wirelesses your uncle was
going to have zigzagging round?"

"No," said Ardita frankly. "I'm all for you. I'd really like to
see you make a get-away."

He laughed.

"You're our Lady Luck. Guess we'll have to keep you with us as a