The name
is immaterial, so long as it sounds well, and conforms to the manifest.
However, just now the register reads _Sea Gull_, Henley, master, 850
tons, schooner-rigged yacht."
"You are under steam?"
"Exactly; auxiliary steam power."
"In what trade?"
"Operated for pleasure exclusively," a slight tone of mockery in the
soft voice. "A rather expensive luxury, of course, but available all
the year around in this latitude."
"I failed to catch the captain's name--yours, I presume?"
He laughed, pausing to light another cigarette.
"Still it is one you seem fairly familiar with--Henley, Philip Henley."
CHAPTER XXII
I CHANGE FRONT
This statement of his identity, spoken calmly, and smilingly, was such
a surprise that I could but stare at the man, half convinced I had
misunderstood his words.
"You see, Craig," he continued quietly, apparently comprehending my
state of mind, "your little game is up. Not a bad plan
originally--something of a criminal genius that fellow Neale--but he
failed to count on the fact that I was very much alive, and fully
capable of attending to my own affairs. By the way, what part did the
girl play in this little conspiracy? Merely a friend of yours, who
came along for company?"
"Certainly not," I replied indignantly.
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