Ahead, the lights of Three Rivers twinkled among square, black blocks of houses and tall sawmill stacks.
A few passengers were strolling about, but the English newspaper had made Blake restless, and he wanted to be alone.

Descending to a quieter deck, he was surprised to see the girl he had assisted sitting in a canvas chair near the rail.

Nearby stood several large baskets, from which rose an angry snarling.
"What is this ?" he asked, with the careless abruptness which usually characterized him.

"With your permission." He raised a lid, while the girl watched him with amusement.
"Looks like a menagerie on a small scale," he remarked.

"Are these animals yours ?" "No; they belong to Mrs.Keith." "Mrs.Keith ?" he said sharply.