liable poked his wooly head above the companionway, having first taken the precaution to remove his helmet. He could see that the white folks were busy talking, and not studying about him. So he sneaked downstairs, took a private short cut to the Sultan's barge, and resumed his nonchalant seat upon the sack of onions, with a pleasant "Good evenin', ladies."
Not a woman looked up. Even the youngest girl kept steadfastly to her grinding; there was no gleam of teeth, no smile; nothing but silence. Zack squirmed around, and grinned at each in rotation. Not a woman noticed him. Something must have happened since his last visit.
The oldest hag kept glancing over her shoulder. Zack had no eyes for hags; therefore, he neglected to follow the woman's apprehension to where Top-Knot crouched behind the wood-pile. One sight of Top-Knot would have changed the whole map of Europe—and more instantly have changed Zack's present location. As he didn't see Top-Knot he only chuckled to himself. Many a cook woman had refused to notice him when he first bowed himself into her kitchen; but Zack could out-talk the best of them, and he always left the kitchen with a smacky taste in his mouth. Huffiness of cook women didn't pester Zack. He grinned his most propitiatory grin, flirted out a white silk handkerchief with red border, and re-
