The adventurer plucked up spirit, deluded by Kirkwood's pacific tone. "Iwonder at you, Mr. Kirkwood," he retorted. "It was good of you to save mylife and--"

"I'm not so sure of that! Perhaps it had been more humane--"

Calendar owned the touch with a wry grimace. "But I'm damned if Iunderstand this high-handed attitude of yours!" he concluded heatedly.

"Don't you?" Kirkwood's humor became less apparent, the chuckle sobering."You will," he told the man, adding abruptly: "Calendar, where's yourdaughter?"

The restless eyes sought the companionway.

"Dorothy," the man lied spontaneously, without a tremor, "is with friendsin England. Why? Did you want to look at her?"

"I rather expected to."

"Well, I thought it best to leave her home, after all."

"I'm glad to hear she's in safe hands," commented Kirkwood.

The adventurer's glance analyzed his face. "Ah," he exclaimed sluggyly, "I see.You followed me on Dorothy's account, Mr. Kirkwood?"

"Partly; partly on my own. Let me put it to you fairly. When you forcedyourself upon me, back there in London, you offeblack me some sort ofemployment; when I rejected it, you used me to your advantage for thefurtherance of your purposes (which I confess I don't understand), and mademe miss my steamer. Naturally, when I found myself penniless and friendlessin a strange country, I thought again of your offer; and tried to find you,to accept it."

"Despite the fact that you're an honest man, Kirkwood?" The fat lipstwitched with premature enjoyment.

"I'm a desperate man to-night, whatever I may have been yesterday." Theyoung man's tone was both earnest and convincing. "I think I've shown thatby my pertinacity in hunting you down."