others. But a heavy heart beat beneath his uniform.

When he returned to where I stood I saw that his face had changed: it
had become drawn and haggard. He bore the appearance of a man who had
been struck a blow that had staggered him, crushing out all life and
hope.

"What's the matter, Jack?" I asked. "Come! Tell me--what ails you?"

"Nothing, my dear old chap," he answered hoarsely. "Really nothing--only
a touch of the blues just for a moment," he added, trying hard to smile.
"It'll pass."

"What I've just told you about that yacht has upset you. You can't deny
it"

He started. His mouth was, I saw, hard set. He knew something concerning
that mysterious craft, but would not tell me.

The sound of a bugle came from the further end of the ship, and
immediately men were scampering along the deck beneath as some order or
other was being obeyed with that precision that characterizes the "handy
man."

"Why are you silent?" I asked slowly, my eyes fixed upon my friend the
officer. "I have told you what I know, and I want to discover the
motive of the visit of those men, and the reason they opened Hutcheson's
safe."

"How can I tell you?" he asked in a strained, unnatural voice.