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Open War.
107

he added, "I may as well know, sooner or later, what you are hunting us down for in this fashion."

The other smiled maliciously.

"I will expect you there in five minutes. If you don't come I will look you up."

The waiter who handed Philip his jug might have supposed the last sentence just a civil appointment made by one friend with another.

In the state-room, which Philip reached trembling but resolved (and especially resolved on saying nothing to the captain or any body else until after the coming interview), Gerald lay fast asleep, his face turned from the light. He did not hear Philip enter this time.

"Shall I wake him?" questioned he. He set down the water-jug. "No, I wont. The little fellow's pretty sure to stay like that until I've got to the bottom of this row and am back here, ready to make my next move. Heigho! shouldn't I like to see Mr. Marcy just this minute!"

He bent above Gerald. He was sound asleep—safe to stay so, indefinitely. Philip stole out, once more turning the key on Gerald, that no intruder should disturb his calm dreams.