Forced thus by his own error to postpone the anticipated investigation, Masters was in no pleasant mood as he made his way to the boat-house, with the intention of venting his spite on the girl who loved him. But even this relief was not to be vouchsafed him yet. On the contrary, his displeasure was swiftly to become wrath, venomed by alarm; for, as he drew near the boat-house, he heard a chorus of merry voices. Instantly, he realized that the other men were here where he had expected to find only May, and possibly Miss West. Fury mounted high at the thought. A fierce, unreasoning jealousy bit at him. So great was his emotion under these confederate causes that, for once, he forgot discretion, and passed with hasty steps around the boat-house, totally heedless of the distraught expression on his usually debonair countenance.

As the engineer rounded the corner, a scowl bent his brows at sight of the scene before him. The summer morning was of bland sun and gentle airs to set the care-free in a mood for lazy delights. The group of four, it was plain, had yielded to the soft seduction of the hour, for their faces were radiant. Roy Morton was sitting, in a boyish attitude, on the top of a snubbing post, about which his long legs were twined for security’s sake, while May Thurston cuddled at his feet, her face uplifted, her eyes rapt, as she listened to some tale told from the book of his adventures. The spectacle infuriated Masters, and new fuel fed the flame as his eyes fell on the other two. These had their backs to the newcomer, who approached immediately behind them. Margaret sat at the edge of the dock, leaning against a post, in a posture of perfect comfort peculiarly exasperating to the observer. A little to the right, and so placed as to face the girl, Saxe sat, with his feet folded under him like a Turk. Masters noted, even in this gusty moment, that his rival was an especially good-looking young man, of the shaven, clean-cut type most esteemed by the contemporary illustrator. The engineer appreciated the type of which he himself was the exemplar, and appreciated it indeed at its full worth, but, having a fair degree of intelligence, he knew that women admired also the vigorous, wholesome and cultured man, of the kind there before him. Though he had not the least fear for his own prowess where the hearts of women were concerned, he could not disguise from himself the fact that here was one who might easily prove a dangerous rival were the opportunity given.

Saxe had just done with explaining to Miss West the reason for the new era of idleness, which the day had inaugurated for himself and his two companions. With Billy Walker, the era was merely continued.

It must be confessed that Saxe had cast a reconnoitering glance toward Roy before beginning his recital, and that he held his voice lowered throughout the telling. He knew that this confidence to the girl, whom, to a certain extent, at least, the others distrusted, might be deemed by them the height of folly. But he was past respecting their opinions in aught that concerned her and him. So, he told her freely of the decision to abandon systematic search, in favor of a recondite dependence upon occult inspiration. Margaret’s interest in the narrative was of the sincerest, and it delighted him. Her manner of receiving the information was proof enough to his mind that she harbored no least desire for his failure in this undertaking. His heart was in a glow of happiness, as she bent a little toward him, her face all eagerness, her limpid eyes dazzlingly blue in the brilliant light. She met his gaze squarely, as she voiced her protest against the course adopted:

“Oh, but, Mr. Temple, the time’s so short—less than three weeks now—it isn’t safe!”

The two were in this attitude of absorbed intimacy when Masters’ glance fell upon them. The evident intensity of their interest in each other capped the climax of his rage. He strode forward, with a sneer arching the heavy mustache. At the sound of his steps, the group looked up, and, in varying fashion, each of the four showed unmistakable signs of dissatisfaction at this interruption of the conversation. Masters so far forgot his manners as to make no response to the rather curt nods with which the two men greeted him. Instead, he halted abruptly, and stared, glowering, at Margaret and Saxe. After the first moment of astonishment at the engineer’s discourteous manner, Saxe’s expression of animation died out suddenly, to be replaced by a set severity that augured ill for him who should challenge it. Roy’s jaw shot out a little, and the veil dropped over his eyes, which, a moment before, had been mild and deep. Margaret could only regard the malevolent face of Masters with sheer amazement, as his wrathful eyes met hers.

It was May who saved the situation. She sprang to her feet with a little cry, which might have been of pleasure or of pain. With the intuition of a loving woman, she seized instantly on the fact that something had thrown her lover from his customary poise. Without a particle of hesitation, she employed the first ruse suggested by her woman’s wit:

“Oh, you did come, after all—in spite of that horrid tooth!”

She had no least idea as to the cause that had put the man in this tempestuous temper, but she realized the necessity of restoring him to some measure of self-control ere he should commit himself hopelessly by a violent outbreak. The fiction concerning the tooth rose to her lips without conscious volition on her part, the grimace with which Masters faced her, though merely a physical symbol of fury, might well have had its origin in a spasm of pain.

As he met May’s dismayed and imploring eyes, sanity rushed back on the engineer. By a stern effort, he fought back the flooding wrath. His face worked a little, then settled into a grim repose. While the others waited in silence for the outcome, he suddenly smiled, crookedly.