id="page_28" class="x-ebookmaker-pageno" title="28"/> protected from girls’ invasion; and you are not thinking of lava or injunctions, just now. You’re pitying yourself for what you consider shabby treatment, while all the time Anne can see that your evening’s disappointment is your own fault.”

Tom weakened. “For goodness’ sake, tell Anne to advise me what to do, if she knows every cure.”

“Come on and have a talk with her. She is just outside, waiting for us,” coaxed John, placing his arm in that of his friend’s, and gently forcing him out of the room.

When Tom met Anne’s sympathetic eyes, he confessed. “Anne, what’s the matter with Polly? She doesn’t seem to know I am on earth. Did you watch her enjoy that dance with a kid like Ken, and then snub me outright when I asked her to dance the next one with me?”

“I don’t know what she did, Tom, but let me give you a bit of sensible advice about Polly. John thinks I am right in this, too, don’t you, dear?” Wise Anne Brewster turned anxiously to John for his opinion.

“Yes, Tom, Anne is a wonder in such things. You listen to her, old man,” agreed John.

Tom sighed heavily and signified his willingness to listen to anything that would end his heartache. Both his companions smiled as if they deemed this case an everyday matter.

“Tom, you are morbid from over-work at the mines,” began Anne. “Remember this, Polly has been on the go in Europe all summer, seeing first one interesting thing after another, and not giving a single thought to you, or anyone, on this side the water. She sneered at anyone who tried to flatter her, or pretended to make love to her, while in Europe, and only cared for art during that tour which meant so much to her.

“You ought to be thankful that she took this attitude, and returned home heart-whole. What would you have done, had she fallen in love with an attractive young man with a title? But she was too sensible for that. She returns home with her mind still filled with the wonderful things she saw abroad, and eager to tell everyone she knows all about her trip. Naturally, she never gives a thought to a lover, or a future husband. She is too young for that sort of thing, anyway, and her family would discourage anyone who suggested such ideas to her. We want her to continue her studies and find joy and satisfaction in her work, until she is twenty-one, at least, and then she can consider matrimony.

“You know, Tom, that we all favor you immensely, as a future husband for Polly, but we certainly would discountenance any advances you might make right now, to turn Polly’s thoughts from sensible work and endeavor, to a state of discontent caused by the dreams of young love. If you are not willing to be a good friend to the girl, now, and wait until she is older, before you show your intentions, then I will certainly do my utmost to keep Polly out of your way. But if, on the other hand, you promise to guard your expression and behavior, and only treat Polly as a good brother might, then we will do everything in our power to protect Polly from any other admirers and to further your interests as best we can. Do you understand, now?”

Tom had listened thoughtfully, and when Anne concluded, he said: “If I thought I had a chance in the end, I would gladly wait a thousand years for Polly!”

“Well, you won’t have to do that,” laughed Anne. “In a few years, at the most, Polly will want to get out of business, and settle down like other girls—to a slave of a husband and a lovely home of her own that she can decorate and enjoy to her heart’s content.”

Tom brightened up visibly at such alluring pictures, and promised to do exactly as Anne advised him to.

“If Polly pays no attention to you now, remember it is because she is different from most girls you have known. She was brought up at Pebbly Pit ranch without any young companions, until we went there that summer. She had a yearning for the beautiful in art and other things, but never had the slightest opportunity in the Rocky Mountains, to further her ideals. The only education she had had in the great and beautiful, was when she was riding the peaks and could study Nature in her grandest works.

“Can you blame her, then, because she revels in her studies and has no other desire, at present, than that of reaching a plane where she can indulge her talent and ideals? Can’t you see that a youthful marriage to Polly, now seems like a sacrifice of all she considers worth while in life?”

Tom nodded understandingly as he listened to Anne. And John added: “I told you Anne had the right idea of this affair! Polly’s absolutely safe, for a few years, from all love-tangles. And when she begins to weary of hard work and disappointments in business, then is your chance to show her a different life.”

“But, Tom,” quickly added Anne, “do not give Polly the opportunity, again, to suspect you of lover-like intentions. Be a first-class brother to her, and let her wonder if she has any further interest in you. Never show your trump card to a girl.”

Both men laughed at this sage advice, and John nodded smilingly: “Anne ought to know, Tom. That was the way she got me.”

Anne was about to answer teasingly, when Mr. Dalken came up and said: “I’ve been hunting you three everywhere. Hurry and get your wraps, as the yacht is waiting to return to the City.”

The trio then learned that passes had been granted the members in Mr. Fabian’s party, to leave the steamer that night and go back with their friends, on the yacht. So the cabin baggage had been brought up to the gang-way, and when Mr. Dalken summoned John and his companions to come and help the girls get away, the boats were already on their way to the yacht with the luggage.

Many of their fellow-passengers crowded about the party when they were ready to go. Good-bys were exchanged and the happy bevy of young folks left. Then the boat returned for the older members in the party, and soon the yacht was ready to fly back to her dock, up the River, near 72nd street. But the thick haze that had made the moon look so romantic, developed into an impenetrable fog. And anyone who has ever experienced such a fog hanging over New York Harbor, knows what it is to try to go through it.

So the vessel had not traveled past the Statue of Liberty, before the heavy pall of fog suddenly dropped silently over the Bay, and anything farther than a few feet away from the radius of the electric lights on the boat, was completely hidden.

The Captain bawled forth orders to the crew and instantly the uniformed men were running back and forth to carry out the instructions. Before all impetus to the yacht was closed down, however, the engines had driven her into the route generally used by the pilots of the boats running to Staten Island.

Captain Johnson anxiously studied his chart but could not gauge his position exactly, because of the dense fog and the lack of signals. In a few minutes more, every fog-horn in the Bay and all the great reflectors from guiding lights from bell-buoys would be in full operation. But at the time, there was nothing to tell him that he was in a dangerous zone.