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Bowing to the president, the actor threw at Billy a glance full of indignation. “Was I as BAD as that? ” he demanded.

On schedule time Billy drove up to the Hotel Ducrot and relinquished St. Clair to the ensign in charge of the launch from the LOUISIANA. At sight of St. Clair in the regalia of a superior officer, that young gentleman showed his surprise.

“I’ve been giving a ‘command’ performance for the president,” explained the actor modestly. “I recited for him, and, though I spoke in English, I think I made quite a hit.”

“You certainly,” Billy assured him gratefully, “made a terrible hit with me.”

As the moving-picture actors, escorted by the ensign, followed their trunks to the launch, Billy looked after them with a feeling of great loneliness. He was aware that from the palace his carriage had been followed; that drawn in a cordon around the hotel negro policemen covertly observed him. That President Ham still hoped to recover his lost prestige and his lost money was only too evident.

It was just five minutes to eight.

Billy ran to his room, and with his suit-case in his hand slipped down the back stairs and into the garden. Cautiously he made his way to the gate in the wall, and in the street outside found Claire awaiting him.

With a cry of relief she clasped his arm.

“You are safe!” she cried. “I was so frightened for you. That President Ham, he is a beast, an ogre!” Her voice sank to a whisper. “And for myself also I have been frightened. The police, they are at each corner. They watch the hotel. They watch ME! Why? What do they want?”

“They want something of mine,” said Billy. “But I can’t tell you what it is until I’m sure it is mine. Is the boat at the wharf?”

“All is arranged,” Claire assured him. “The boatmen are our friends; they will take us safely to the steamer.”

With a sigh of relief Billy lifted her valise and his own, but he did not move forward. Anxiously Claire pulled at his sleeve.

“Come!” she begged. “For what it is that you wait?

It was just eight o’clock.

Billy was looking up at the single electric light bulb that lit the narrow street, and following the direction of his eyes, Claire saw the light grow dim, saw the tiny wires grow red, and disappear. From over all the city came shouts, and cries of consternation oaths, and laughter, and then darkness.

“I was waiting for THIS!” cried Billy.

With the delight of a mischievous child Claire laughed aloud.

“You-you did it!” she accused.

“I did!” said Billy. “And now-we must run like the devil!”

The PRINZ DER NEDERLANDEN was drawing slowly out of the harbor. Shoulder to shoulder Claire and Billy leaned upon the rail. On the wharfs of Port-au-Prince they saw lanterns tossing and candles twinkling; saw the LOUISIANA, blazing like a Christmas-tree, steaming majestically south; in each other’s eyes saw that all was well.

From his pocket Billy drew a long envelope.

“I can now with certainty,” said Billy, “state that this is mine-OURS.”

He opened the envelope, and while Claire gazed upon many mille-franc notes Billy told how he had retrieved them.

“But what danger!” cried Claire. “‘In time Ham would have paid. Your president at Washington would have made him pay. Why take such risks? You had but to wait!”

Billy smiled contentedly.

“Dear one!” he exclaimed, “the policy of watchful waiting is safer, but the Big Stick acts quicker and gets results!”