"Those who study manners," said Peter, "should learn them after a while.
Why didn't you sing out, when you saw us hustling to get out a boat, and
tell us not to bother, as you were only playing dead for the lark of the
thing?"

"Singing, whether out or in, is an art at which I can claim small
proficiency. But tell me the time, will you? I seem to have hocked my
watch."

Peter laughed a little ruefully. "It's seven thirty-six--no more and no
less."

The young man sat up with an effort, and uncertainly gathered up his
oars.

"You'll excuse me, then?" he said. "I have an engagement at seven
thirty, and as you see, there is little time to make it."

"We gave you a light," said Peter. "Why not reciprocate? Who the devil
are you?"

"I am a part of all that I have met," said the stranger, pulling off. "I
am wily wandering Ulysses. I am--"

"That will do," said Peter sharply.

He bowed gravely and rowed away. Peter looked after him for some time,
in rather impressive silence.

"What d' you suppose was the matter with the beggar, anyway? He wasn't