"My God, Jermyn! I should think not," drawled a sleepy voice from
the third chair, and a short, immensely stout man struggled up
into a sitting position, mopping his forehead vigorously. "You've
the instincts of a Turk rather than of an enlightened American
citizen. You've not seen my sister-in-law yet, Mr. Craven," he
turned to the Englishman. "She's a peach! Smartest little girl in
N'York. Leader of society--dollars no object--small wonder she
didn't fall in with Jermyn's prehistoric notions. You're a cave
man, elder brother--I put my money on Nina every time. Hell! isn't
it hot?" He sank down again full length, flapping his handkerchief
feebly at a persistent mosquito.

"We argued for a week," resumed Jermyn Atherton when his brother's
sleepy drawl subsided, "and didn't seem to get any further on. At
last I lost my temper completely and decided to clear out alone if
Nina wouldn't come with me. Leslie was not doing anything at the
time, so I persuaded him to come along too."

Leslie Atherton sat up again with a jerk.

"_Persuaded_!" he exploded, "A dam' queer notion of
persuasion. Shanghaied, I call it. Ran me to earth at the club at
five o'clock, and we sailed at eight. If my man hadn't been fond
of the sea and keen on the trip himself, I should have left America
for a cruise round the world in the clothes I stood up in--and Jermyn's
duds would be about as useful to me as a suit of reach-me-downs off
the line. Persuasion? Shucks! Jermyn thought it was kind of funny to
start right off on an ocean trip at a moment's notice and show Nina
he didn't care a durn. Crazy notion of humour." He lay back languidly