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"I hope it isn't bad news, Elsa," she faltered.

"Well, it is, ma, it is, b-but only in a business way. A little

trip will straighten it up, I think." And she was courteous but

indefatigable in hastening the departure of her guest.

CHAPTER XXI

A PRISONER

When Code Schofield came to himself his first sensation was one

of oppression, such as is felt after sleeping in an unventilated

room. It seemed difficult for him to breathe, but his body was

quite free and uninjured, as he found by moving himself carefully

in all directions before he even opened his eyes.

Presently the air became familiar. It was a perfect mixture of

flavors; oilskins, stale tobacco-smoke, brine, burned grease,

tar, and, as a background, fish. His ears almost immediately

detected water noises running close by, and he could feel the

pull of stout oak timber that formed the inner wall of where he

lay.

"Fo'c'stle of a fishing schooner!" he announced, and then opened

his eyes to prove that he was correct.