“He wants men like you who pretend to the world that they’re granite-hearted when they’re not. Ever since we started, Denny, I’ve been trying to recall where I’d seen your father before; and it came a little while ago. I saw him only once—a broken child he’d brought to the hospital to be mended. I happened to be passing through the children’s ward for some reason. He called himself Jones or Brown or Smith—I forget. But they told me afterward that he brought on an average of four children a month, and paid all expenses 273 until they were ready to go forth, if not cured at least greatly bettered. He told the chief that if anybody ever followed him he would never come back. Your father’s a hypocrite, Denny.”
“So that’s where I saw you?” said Cleigh, ruminatively. He expanded a little. He wanted the respect and admiration of this young woman—his son’s wife-to-be. “Don’t weave any golden halo for me,” he added, dryly. “After Denny packed up and hiked it came back rather hard that I hadn’t paid much attention to his childhood. It was a kind of penance.”
“But you liked it!”
“Maybe I only got used to it. Say, Denny, was there a wireless man in the crew?”
“No. I knew there wouldn’t be. But I can handle the key.”
“Fine! Come along then.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Do? Why, I’m going to have the Asiatic fleets on his heels inside of twenty-four hours! That’s what I’m going to do! He’s an unprincipled rogue!”
“No,” interposed Jane, “only a poor broken thing.”
“That’s no fault of mine. But no man can play this sort of game with me, and show a clean pair of heels. The rug and the paintings are gone 274 for good. I swore to him that I would have his hide, and have it I will! I never break my word.”