"I believe, Tom," said Mr. Waterbury, "that I will come to an understanding with these officious acquaintances of yours. I will intimate to them that their persecution must cease."

"Will they mind what you say, sir?"

"I think they will," answered his friend quietly.

Graham and Vincent were standing together, and apart from the rest of the passengers, when Mr. Waterbury approached them.

"A word with you, gentlemen," said he gravely.

"I don't know you, sir," blustered Vincent.

"Perhaps not. Permit me to remark that I have no special desire for your acquaintance."

"Then why do you take the liberty of addressing me?"

"I rather admire the fellow's impudence," said Mr. Waterbury to himself.

"Are you associated with this gentleman?" he asked, indicating Graham.

"We are friends."

"Then I will address an inquiry to him. I am not in the habit of receiving calls in my stateroom during the hours of sleep."

"I don't understand you, sir," said Milton Graham, with hauteur.

"Oh, yes, you do, unless your memory is singularly defective. Our staterooms are close together. You entered mine last night."

"You must have been dreaming."

"If so, I was dreaming with my eyes open. Perhaps it was in my dreams that I saw you extract a wallet from my coat pocket."

"Do you mean to insult me, sir?" demanded Graham.

"Really, sir, your remarks are rather extraordinary," chimed in Vincent.

"Do you mean to say that I robbed you?" demanded Graham, confident in the knowledge that the booty was not on his person.

"I find a wallet missing. That speaks for itself."

"Let me suggest that your roommate probably took it," said Vincent.

"Extremely probable," said Graham. "He roomed with me in Pittsburg, and I caught him at my pockets during the night."

"Did you ever hear the fable of the wolf and the lamb, Mr. Graham?" asked Mr. Waterbury.

"Can't say I have."

"It's of no consequence. I am reminded of it, however."

"Come to think of it," said Vincent, "I saw the boy with a roll of bills. You had better search him. If he is innocent, he can't object."

"I see your drift," returned Mr. Waterbury, after a pause. "I saw you thrust the bills into his pocket, as he stood with his back turned, conversing with one of the passengers. It was very skilfully done, but I saw it."

Vincent started, for he had supposed himself unobserved.

"I see you are determined to insult us," he said. "I will charitably conclude that you are drunk."

"I can't be so charitable with you, sir. I believe you are a pair of precious scoundrels, who, if you had your deserts, would be in the penitentiary instead of at large."

"I have a mind to knock you down," said Vincent angrily.

As Vincent was several inches shorter and much slighter than the person whom he threatened, this menace sounded rather ridiculous.

"You are at liberty to try it," said the latter, smiling. "First, however, let me warn you that, if you continue to annoy us, it will be at your peril. If you remain quiet I shall leave you alone. Otherwise I will make known your true character to the captain and passengers, and you will undoubtedly be set ashore when we reach the next landing. I have the honor to wish you good morning."

"It strikes me, Graham," said Vincent, as Mr. Waterbury left them, "that we have tackled the wrong passenger."

"I believe you are right," said Graham. "Just my luck."

"There isn't much use in staying on the boat. He will keep a good lookout for us."

"True; but I don't want to give up the boy."

"He is under the guardianship of this determined old party."

"They will separate at Cincinnati."

"Well?"

"He has money enough to take him to California. He is worth following up."

"Then you are in favor of going on to Cincinnati?"

"By all means."

"Very well. There are always chances of making an honest penny in a large city."

"Money or no money, I want to get even with the boy."

So the worthy pair decided to go on to Cincinnati.