swered. "Will you be good enough to let down your accommodation ladder?"
For a moment Wall hesitated. And Minot, watching him, knew why he hesitated. He suspected that the young man in the tiny boat there on the calm bright waters had come to repay a call earlier in the evening—a call made while the host was out. At last he decided to let down the ladder.
"Glad to see you," he announced genially as Minot came on deck.
"Awfully nice of you to say that," Minot laughed. "Reassures me. Because I've heard there are sharks in these waters."
They sat down in wicker chairs on the forward deck. Minot stared at the cluster of lights that was San Marco by night.
"Corking view you have of that tourist-haunted town," he commented.
"Ah—yes," Mr. Wall's queer eyes narrowed. "Did you row out here to tell me that?" he inquired.
"A deserved rebuke," Minot returned. "Time flies, and my errand is a pressing one. Am I
