nerves. One demands more repose from a man."

Joan felt that she did not quite agree with his judgment; and,
somehow, Sheldon caught her feeling and was disturbed. He

remembered noting how her eyes had brightened as she talked with
the newcomer--confound it all, was he getting jealous? he asked

himself. Why shouldn't her eyes brighten? What concern was it of
his?

A second boat had been lowered, and the outfit of the shore party
was landed rapidly. A dozen of the crew put the knocked-down boats

together on the beach. There were five of these craft--lean and
narrow, with flaring sides, and remarkably long. Each was equipped

with three paddles and several iron-shod poles.
"You chaps certainly seem to know river-work," Sheldon told one of

the carpenters.
The man spat a mouthful of tobacco-juice into the white sand, and

answered, -
"We use 'em in Alaska. They're modelled after the Yukon poling-

boats, and you can bet your life they're crackerjacks. This
creek'll be a snap alongside some of them Northern streams. Five

hundred pounds in one of them boats, an' two men can snake it along
in a way that'd surprise you."

At sunset the Martha broke out her anchor and got under way,
dipping her flag and saluting with a bomb gun. The Union Jack ran

up and down the staff, and Sheldon replied with his brass signal-
cannon. The miners pitched their tents in the compound, and cooked

on the beach, while Tudor dined with Joan and Sheldon.
Their guest seemed to have been everywhere and seen everything and

met everybody, and, encouraged by Joan, his talk was largely upon
his own adventures. He was an adventurer of adventurers, and by

his own account had been born into adventure. Descended from old
New England stock, his father a consul-general, he had been born in

Germany, in which country he had received his early education and
his accent. Then, still a boy, he had rejoined his father in

Turkey, and accompanied him later to Persia, his father having been
appointed Minister to that country.

Tudor had always been a wanderer, and with facile wit and quick
vivid description he leaped from episode and place to episode and

place, relating his experiences seemingly not because they were
his, but for the sake of their bizarreness and uniqueness, for the

unusual incident or the laughable situation. He had gone through
South American revolutions, been a Rough Rider in Cuba, a scout in

South Africa, a war correspondent in the Russo-Japanese war. He
had mushed dogs in the Klondike, washed gold from the sands of

Nome, and edited a newspaper in San Francisco. The President of
the United States was his friend. He was equally at home in the

clubs of London and the Continent, the Grand Hotel at Yokohama, and
the selector's shanties in the Never-Never country. He had shot

big game in Siam, pearled in the Paumotus, visited Tolstoy, seen
the Passion Play, and crossed the Andes on mule-back; while he was

a living directory of the fever holes of West Africa.
Sheldon leaned back in his chair on the veranda, sipping his coffee

and listening. In spite of himself he felt touched by the charm of
the man who had led so varied a life. And yet Sheldon was not

comfortable. It seemed to him that the man addressed himself
particularly to Joan. His words and smiles were directed

impartially toward both of them, yet Sheldon was certain, had the
two men of them been alone, that the conversation would have been

along different lines. Tudor had seen the effect on Joan and
deliberately continued the flow of reminiscence, netting her in the

glamour of romance. Sheldon watched her rapt attention, listened
to her spontaneouslaughter, quick questions, and passing

judgments, and felt grow within him the dawning consciousness that
he loved her.

So he was very quiet and almost sad, though at times he was aware
of a distinctirritation against his guest, and he even speculated

as to what percentage of Tudor's tale was true and how any of it
could be proved or disproved. In this connection, as if the scene

had been prepared by a clever playwright, Utami came upon the
veranda to report to Joan the capture of a crocodile in the trap

they had made for her.
Tudor's face, illuminated by the match with which he was lighting

his cigarette, caught Utami's eye, and Utami forgot to report to
his mistress.

"Hello, Tudor," he said, with a familiarity that startled Sheldon.
The Polynesian's hand went out, and Tudor, shaking it, was staring

into his face.
"Who is it? " he asked. "I can't see you."

"Utami."
"And who the dickens is Utami? Where did I ever meet you, my man?"

"You no forget the Huahine?" Utami chided. "Last time Huahine
sail?"

Tudor gripped the Tahitian's hand a second time and shook it with
genuine heartiness.

"There was only one kanaka who came out of the Huahine that last
voyage, and that kanaka was Joe. The deuce take it, man, I'm glad

to see you, though I never heard your new name before."
"Yes, everybody speak me Joe along the Huahine. Utami my name all

the time, just the same."
"But what are you doing here?" Tudor asked, releasing the sailor's

hand and leaning eagerly forward.
"Me sail along Missie Lackalanna her schooner Miele. We go Tahiti,

Raiatea, Tahaa, Bora-Bora, Manua, Tutuila, Apia, Savaii, and Fiji
Islands--plenty Fiji Islands. Me stop along Missie Lackalanna in

Solomons. Very soon she catch other schooner."
"He and I were the two survivors of the wreck of the Huahine,"

Tudor explained to the others. "Fifty-seven all told on board when
we sailed from Huapa, and Joe and I were the only two that ever set

foot on land again. Hurricane, you know, in the Paumotus. That
was when I was after pearls."

"And you never told me, Utami, that you'd been wrecked in a
hurricane," Joan said reproachfully.

The big Tahitian shifted his weight and flashed his teeth in a
conciliating smile.

"Me no t'ink nothing 't all," he said.
He half-turned, as if to depart, by his manner indicating that he

considered it time to go while yet he desired to remain.
"All right, Utami," Tudor said. "I'll see you in the morning and

have a yarn."
"He saved my life, the beggar," Tudor explained, as the Tahitian

strode away and with heavy softness of foot went down the steps.
"Swim! I never met a better swimmer."

And thereat, solicited by Joan, Tudor narrated the wreck of the
Huahine; while Sheldon smoked and pondered, and decided that

whatever the man's shortcomings were, he was at least not a liar.
CHAPTER XV--A DISCOURSE ON MANNERS

The days passed, and Tudor seemed loath to leave the hospitality of
Berande. Everything was ready for the start, but he lingered on,

spending much time in Joan's company and thereby increasing the
dislike Sheldon had taken to him. He went swimming with her, in

point of rashness exceeding her; and dynamited fish with her,
diving among the hungry ground-sharks and contesting with them for

possession of the stunned prey, until he earned the approval of the
whole Tahitian crew. Arahu challenged him to tear a fish from a

shark's jaws, leaving half to the shark and bringing the other half
himself to the surface; and Tudor performed the feat, a flip from

the sandpaper hide of the astonished shark scraping several inches
of skin from his shoulder. And Joan was delighted, while Sheldon,

looking on, realized that here was the hero of her adventure-dreams
coming true. She did not care for love, but he felt that if ever