He broke off with a look of question to Dick, who shook his head.

Calls and cries and splashings of water from beyond a screen of trees
warned them that they were near the tank.

"You'll have to tell me the rest of the story some time," Paula said.

"Dick knows it. I can't see why he hasn't told you."

She shrugged her shoulders.

"Perhaps because he's never had the time or the provocation."

"God wot, it's had wide circulation," Graham laughed. "For know that I
was once morganatic--or whatever you call it--king of the cannibal
isles, or of a paradise of a Polynesian isle at any rate.--'By a
purple wave on an opal beach in the hush of the Mahim woods,'" he
hummed carelessly, in conclusion, and swung off from his horse.

"'The white moth to the closing vine, the bee to the opening clover,'"
she hummed another line of the song, while The Fop nearly got his
teeth into her leg and she straightened him out with the spur, and
waited for Dick to help her off and tie him.

"Cigars!--I'm in on that!--you can't catch her!" Bert Wainwright
called from the top of the high dive forty feet above. "Wait a minute!
I'm coming!"

And come he did, in a swan dive that was almost professional and that