"But why should they want to kidnap you? I don't see any reason
for it," Alice protested.
A shadowy smile lay in the eyes of Mrs. Van Tyle. "Mr. Farnum is
in politics, my dear."
A fat pork packer from Chicago joined the group. "I've been
thinking about the sharks, Mr. Farnum. You played in great luck to
escape them."
"Sharks!" Jeff heard the young woman beside him give a gasp. In
the moonlight her face showed white.
"These waters are fairly infested with them," the Chicagoan
explained. "We saw two this morning in the harbor. It was when the
stewards threw out the scraps. They turned over on their--"
"Don't!" cried Alice Frome sharply.
The petrified horror on the vivid mobile face remained long as a
sweet memory to Jeff. It had been for him that she had known the
swift heart clutch of terror.
Part 4
Farnum, pacing the deck as he munched at an apple, heard himself
hailed from the bridge above. He looked up, to see Alice Frome,
caught gloriously in the wind like a winged Victory. Her hair was
parted in the middle with a touch of Greek simplicity and fell in
wavy ripples over her temples beneath the jaunty cap. She put her
arms on the railing and leaned forward, her chin tilted to an
oddly taking boyish piquancy.
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