Crawshay stroked his upper lip.

"You can say," he pronounced with dignity, "that I found the trip most
enjoyable. And by-the-by, you had better put a word in about the skill
of the pilot--Lieutenant T. Johnson, I believe his name was. I have no
experience in such matters, and I found him once or twice a little
unsympathetic when I complained of bumps, but the young man did his
best--of that I am convinced."

Mr. Brand's tongue slowly crept round the outside of his mouth. He met
the eye of his friend Mr. Clark and indulged in a wink. He had the air
of a man who felt relieved by the operation.

"We are very much obliged to you, Mr. Crawshay," he declared. "You
have done something to brighten this trip, anyway."

"A little later," Crawshay announced, "either just before your
luncheon or dinner hour, if you and your friends would meet me in the
smoking room, I should be delighted to remember in the customary
fashion that I have won a rather considerable wager."

"Come, that's bully," Brand declared, with a little real feeling in
his tone. "I tell you, Clark," he added, as they made their way along
the deck to the writing room, "you've got to prick these damned
Britishers pretty hard, but they've generally got a bit of the right
feeling somewhere tucked away. He'll have a swollen head for the rest
of this voyage, though." Crawshay watched the two men disappear, out
of the corner of his eye. Then he rose to his feet and commenced a
little promenade about the sunny portion of the deck. After two or
three turns he found himself face to face with Jocelyn Thew, who had