rovers of the Fatherland and deliver the cargo of coal that meant so
much to them. The sight might have aroused some hope in Cappy's heavy
heart, he being by nature inconsistent and always seeing a profit
where others found naught but a deficit. However, though Cappy was
variously gifted he was not a clairvoyant, in consequence of which he
spent a very sleepless night following the receipt of that windy
cablegram from the American consul. He dined at his club, and when it
was time for him to leave and his daughter sent her car for him, he
lacked the courage to go home and face his son-in-law. So he spent the
night at the club and came down to the office about noon, hoping Matt
Peasley would have recovered from the shock by that time. The latter
was waiting for him, and came into Cappy's sanctum immediately to hold
a post-mortem.

"Matthew, my dear boy," said Cappy miserably, "this is terrible."

"I think we should take the matter up immediately with the State
Department," Matt replied. "There may be a United States warship in
those waters, and she could be instructed by wireless to endeavor to
intercept the _Narcissus._ We can prove a clean bill of health with
those cablegrams, and get back our ship."

"Yes--from our own Government, of course. But, oh, Matt, if old Johnny
Bull ever gets his horns into her we can kiss her good-bye. We can't
bring forward any evidence to alibi that German crew on a ship so far
off her course and loaded with contraband."

"Well, I know if I were skippering a British warship and picked up the
_Narcissus,_ her owners would find I was born and bred in Missouri,"
the honest Matt admitted. "By the way, have you read this morning's