"Oh, some family trouble, I guess. Her folks wanted her to marry a man
she had no use for. That's him standing there on the wharf now."

"Ye don't tell!" The captain turned his head and looked shoreward.
"Wonder why he isn't helpin' to search fer his sweetheart. He seems to
be mighty cool about the affair."

"Oh, he's afraid of soiling his hands and clothes." The man spoke in a
low voice, for he was now close alongside. "He's Lord
Something-or-Other's son, an' wouldn't think of associating with such
common cusses as us. He belongs to the upper-crust, doncher-know." The
man smiled, and his companions grinned. It was quite evident that they
were all familiar with the story.

"An' so ye say the gal yer lookin' fer is Miss Randall, daughter of
Henry Randall, the big lumber merchant?" the captain asked.

"That's who she is; his only daughter."

"An' he wants her to marry _that_?" and the captain motioned toward the
wharf.

"Sure. Is it any wonder she'd want to commit suicide? She'd be a fool
if she wouldn't. But, there, we must get back to work. We just
dropped alongside, thinking ye might have seen her drifting around,
last night, and heard a scream or a splash."

"What makes ye think it was around here she done the deed?" the captain
asked.