"Reminds me of a boarding party of pirates," remarked

Billy Mallory, as he watched Blanco, the last to throw a leg

over the rail, reach the deck.

"They're not very pretty, are they?" murmured Barbara

Harding, instinctively shrinking closer to her companion.

"'Pretty' scarcely describes them, Barbara," said Billy; "and

do you know that somehow I am having difficulty in imagining

them on their knees giving up thanks to the Lord for their

rescue--that was your recent idea of 'em, you will recall."

"If you have purposely set yourself the task of being more

than ordinarily disagreeable today, Billy," said Barbara sweetly,

"I'm sure it will please you to know that you are succeeding."

"I'm glad I'm successful at something then," laughed the

man. "I've certainly been unsuccessful enough in another

matter."

"What, for example?" asked Barbara, innocently.

"Why in trying to make myself so agreeable heretofore that

you'd finally consent to say 'yes' for a change."

"Now you are going to make it all the worse by being

stupid," cried the girl petulantly. "Why can't you be nice, as

you used to be before you got this silly notion into your

head?"

"I don't think it's a silly notion to be head over heels in

love with the sweetest girl on earth," cried Billy.

"Hush! Someone will hear you."

"I don't care if they do. I'd like to advertise it to the whole

world. I'm proud of the fact that I love you; and you don't

care enough about it to realize how really hard I'm hit--why

I'd die for you, Barbara, and welcome the chance; why--My

God! What's that?"

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