CHAPTER XI.
THE SHIP OF HORROR Quest leaned a little forward and gazed down the line of steamer chairs.
The Professor, in a borrowed overcoat and cap, was reclining at full length, studying a book on seagulls which he had found in the library.
Laura and Lenora were both dozing tranquilly.

Mr.Harris of Scotland Yard was deep in a volume of detective stories.
"As a pleasure cruise," Quest remarked grimly, "this little excursion seems to be a complete success." Laura opened her eyes at once.
"Trying to get my goat again, eh ?" she retorted.

"I suppose that's what you're after.

Going to tell me, I suppose, that it wasn't Craig I saw board this steamer ?" "We are all liable to make mistakes," Quest observed, "and I am inclined to believe that this is one of yours." Laura's expression was a little dogged.
"If he's too clever for you and Mr.Harris," she said, "I can't help that.
I only know that he came on board.

My eyes are the one thing in life I do believe." "If you'll excuse my saying so, Miss Laura," Harris ventured, leaning deferentially towards her, "there isn't a passenger on board this ship, or a servant, or one of the crew, whom we haven't seen.