ight."
He sat where she left him, and presently an uncomfortable little laugh came forth.
"I didn't tell her the truth, after all." he thought. "But it's just as well. She would have told him, probably, and all my work to get him away from tlii& dangerous paradise would have been lost. Anyway, they would never have for- given me. Olivera won't tell, and I can fix her father all right. It would have been a joke if Sam had recognized me among the kidnappers, though."
A QUESTION OF IDENTITY
By Florence Martin Eastland
THE warning whistle of a departing steamer accelerated the steps of the hurrying crowd. Before the dock Avas reached I was pushed on the heels of two men who were talking animatedly. "Yes, I am going to Victoria on the Eobert Boyd," I heard one say. "You see he has been in Alaska for ten years, and is now coming out with a fortune. He hasn't a relative on earth. He will probably lose all his money in speculation — "
"As so many of them do," interrupted the older man.
"Unless I can sell him a big annuity. He reaches Victoria to-day, and I will do business with hijn or my name is not Ludlow. When we were chums at college he usually relied on my judgment."
"Success to you," returned the other. "By the way, did you know your premium was due?"
"Sure; I settled with the cashier before I left. If anything should happen to me. Wells, my wife and baby are protected. And if what I expect happens, if I sell this annuity, the mortgage on my home will be paid and a snug sum placed to my credit in the bank."
Just then the crowd parted and the two turned to the left where the steamer lay, while I joined my friend. We rowed out in the bay to his vessel, which was waiting ready to sail. As we passed the steamer 1 saw the younger of the two men standing near the rail of the lower deck. He waved his hand to his friend and shouted, "Good-bye, Wells." We boarded our bark, and the wind being favor- able, we soon set sail.
The afternoon of the second day we were nearing the mouth of the Strait when we sighted a large piece of wreckage drifting toward us with the incoming tide. On closer inspection it proved to be a portion of the upper deck of a steamer. Lying across it with one hand grasping the broken railing was the figure of a man almost nude. A boat was lowered and the unconscious man taken aboard.
The usual methods failed to resuscitate him. We were about to give him up as dead when he suddenly opened his eyes and looked at us vaguely. A warm drink still further revived him. At length he hesitatingly inquired :
"What vessel is this?" • "The Sophie May," answered the Captain.
"For what port is she bound?"
"Nome; with a cargo of lumber."
Presently he passed his liand across his eyes and pushed from his foreliead his wet hair, which was curiously streaked with white. He shuddered as he weakly said, "It was an awful sight when the stoaincr went down."
"What steamer?" I asked.
"I — do not know," he said at length.
The Captain and \ stared at each other in surprise, and I interrogated further.
