never seem like spies."

If I looked as I felt just then, the search-light that swept me must
have startled him. I could feel my face flushing, my hands clenching as
I caught his drift. I swung round.

"What's this about?" I demanded sharply. But I knew.

"Well," said the secret-service man discreetly, "I saw something pretty
funny the first night out, Mr. Bayne. It was safe enough with me; I can
tell a gentleman from a spy; but if an officer had seen it, the thing
wouldn't have been a joke. Suppose we put it this way. There's a person
on board I think I know. I haven't got the goods, I'll own, but I
don't often make mistakes. My advice to you, sir, is to steer clear of
strangers. And if I were you, I--"

"That'll do, thanks!" I cut him short. "I can take care of myself. I
don't say your motives are bad,--you may think this is a favor,--but I
call it a confounded piece of meddling, and I'll trouble you to let it
end."

He looked hurt and indignant.

"Now, look here," he remonstrated, "what have I done but give you a
friendly hint not to get in bad? But maybe I was too vague about it; you
just listen to a few facts. I'll tell you who that young lady is and who
her people are and what she wants on the other side--"

"No, you won't!" I declared. My voice sounded savage. I was recalling
how she had begged the extra of me, and how it had contained a full