want you to get me two diamonds' and a ruby's worth of shirts and
collars; and also a safety razor. My mind has stopped working, but
my whiskers continue to grow."

The officer managed to say with dignity: "You wish to raise money
on this, I presume? Very well, I'll see what can be done for you,
Mr. Locke." As he turned away, Kirk became conscious that the
woman in the next chair had let her book fall and was watching him
with amused curiosity. Feeling a sudden desire to confide in some
one, he turned his eyes upon her with such a natural, boyish smile
that she could not take offence, and began quite as if he had
known her for some time:

"These people are money-mad, aren't they? Worst bunch of gold-
diggers I ever saw." Surprised, she half raised her book, but Kirk
ran on: "Anybody would think I was trying to find a missing will
instead of a shirt. That purser is the only man on the ship my
size, and he distrusts me."

The woman murmured something unintelligible. "I hope you don't
mind my speaking to you," he added. "I'm awfully lonesome. My name
is Anthony, Kirk Anthony."

Evidently the occupant of the next chair was not a football
enthusiast, for, although she bowed her acknowledgment, her face
showed that the name carried no significance.

"I understood you to tell the purser your name was Locke," said
she, in a very low-pitched, well-modulated voice. "I couldn't help
overhearing."