Wild Norene. Johnston McCulley

asked.

      "I do not see Garza yet. We have been watching him closely, and one of my men will trail him here. Your mate is to meet Garza here to-night and tell him the cargo is aboard and when you are to sail."

      Captain Adams's hands gripped the sides of the table again.

      "I hate a traitor and know how to deal with one," he said. "What is Riney doing?"

      "Is that his name? He's looking through the crowd. Now he has seated himself at a table. There's no doubt of the man's guilt."

      "Riney had been my mate for two years, and there is doubt of his guilt until I hear from his own lips words that prove him to be dishonest," said the captain. "You don't suppose he can recognize me if he looks over here?"

      "Sit as you are. You are in the shadow. I am watching."

      Riney, Captain Adams's mate, appeared nervous. He arose and went to the bar again, then resumed his seat at the table.

      In the corner of the room men were wildly applauding Sally Wood's music. She ceased playing when she saw Jack Connor standing near the plaform, and walked over to him.

      "You've been drinking too much again," she accused. "Why do you?"

      "Now, Sally, I'm not in a mood for a lecture to-night. You've been playing too much; you look tired."

      "I get sick of it at times."

      There was agony in the woman's voice. Connor looked down at her with sympathy in his face. It was not sympathy she wanted to see there.

      "It is pretty hard on you," he said. "Why don't you give it up? Let the scoundrel go!"

      "Not until I find him and punish him. He took my father's savings, remember. My father didn't—didn't have quite enough to eat for a year before he died."

      She looked away, biting her lip to keep back the tears. Soon she turned toward him again, trying to smile.

      But Jack Connor was looking away toward the opposite side of the room. An expression of unbelief was on his face.

      In that opposite wall was an open doorway, twice as wide as an ordinary door, that led to a cheap café and restaurant where sailormen ate and painted women sometimes took their meals. Framed in it for an instant, beckoning him, he had seen the girl he had met in the street while with Morgan, the girl whose handkerchief he had picked up, mention of whom he had prohibited in this sorry resort.