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Having been brought up in a convent, where she was taught to obey her mother and forbidden to think of marriage, Claire was naturally delighted with the idea of an elopement.

“To where will we elope to?” she demanded. Her English, as she learned it from Billy, was sometimes confusing.

“To New York,” said Billy. “On the voyage there I will put you in charge of the stewardess and the captain; and there isn’t a captain on the Royal Dutch or the Atlas that hasn’t known you since you were a baby. And as soon as we dock we’ll drive straight to the city hall for a license and the mayor himself will marry us. Then I’ll get back my old job from the Wilmot folks and we’ll live happy ever after!”

“In New York, also,” asked Claire proudly, “are you directeur of the electric lights?”

“On Broadway alone,” Billy explained reprovingly, “there is one sign that uses more bulbs than there are in the whole of Hayti!”

“New York is a large town!” exclaimed Claire.

“It’s a large sign,” corrected Billy. “But,” he pointed out, “with no money we’ll never see it. So to-morrow I’m going to make a social call on Grandpa Ham and demand my ten thousand francs.” Claire grasped his arm.

“Be careful,” she pleaded. “Remember the chicken soup. If he offers you the champagne, refuse it!”

“He won’t offer me the champagne,” Billy assured her. “It won’t be that kind of a call.”

Billy left the Cafe Ducrot and made his way to the water- front. He was expecting some electrical supplies by the PRINZ DER NEDERLANDEN, and she had already come to anchor.

He was late, and save for a group of his countrymen, who with the customs officials were having troubles of their own, the customs shed was all but deserted. Billy saw his freight cleared and was going away when one of those in trouble signalled for assistance.

He was a good-looking young man in a Panama hat and his manner seemed to take it for granted that Billy knew who he was. “They want us to pay duty on our trunks,” he explained, “and we want to leave them in bond. We’ll be here only until to-night, when we’re going on down the coast to Santo Domingo. But we don’t speak French, and we can’t make them understand that.”

“You don’t need to speak any language to give a man ten dollars,” said Billy.

“Oh!” exclaimed the man in the Panama. “I was afraid if I tried that they might arrest us.”

“They may arrest you if you don’t,” said Billy. Acting both as interpreter and disbursing agent, Billy satisfied the demands of his fellow employees of the government, and his fellow countrymen he directed to the Hotel Ducrot.

As some one was sure to take their money, he thought it might as well go to his mother-in-law elect. The young man in the Panama expressed the deepest gratitude, and Billy, assuring him he would see him later, continued to the power-house, still wondering where he had seen him before.

At the power-house he found seated at his desk a large, bearded stranger whose derby hat and ready-to-wear clothes showed that he also had but just arrived on the PRINZ DER NEDERLANDEN.

“You William Barlow?” demanded the stranger. “I understand you been threatening, unless you get your pay raised, to commit sabotage on these works?”

“Who the devil are you?” inquired Billy.

The stranger produced an impressive-looking document covered with seals.

“Contract with the president,” he said. I’ve taken over your job. You better get out quiet,” he advised, “as they’ve given me a squad of nigger policemen to see that you do.”

“Are you aware that these works are the property of the Wilmot Company?” asked Billy, “and that if anything went wrong here they’d hold you responsible?” The stranger smiled complacently.

“I’ve run plants,” he said, “that make these lights look like a stable lantern on a foggy night.”

“In that case,” assented Billy, “should anything happen, you’ll know exactly what to do, and I can leave you in charge without feeling the least anxiety.”

“That’s just what you can do,” the stranger agreed heartily,” and you can’t do it too quick!” From the desk he took Billy’s favorite pipe and loaded it from Billy’s tobacco-jar. But when Billy had reached the door he called to him. “Before you go, son,” he said “you might give me a tip about this climate. I never been in the tropics. It’s kind of unhealthy, ain’t it?”