Not that Percival’s conscience succumbed without a struggle; he had to assure it repeatedly that he would refrain from rousing in Bobby any hopes that might be realized.  The moment she showed the slightest sign of taking his attentions seriously he would kindly, but firmly, make her understand.  It would not be the first time he had had to do this.  He recalled several instances with sad complacency.  But a man cannot always be sacrificing himself.  A mild flirtation, with a girl whom he never expected to see again was surely a harmless way of consoling himself for the harsh treatment he had recently received from another of her sex.

The one fly in his amber these days was Andy Black; only Andy was not a fixed object.  His activities were endless, and, strangely enough, they exerted a powerful influence on Percival, causing him to change his entire mode of life from his hour of getting up to his hour of retiring.  In order to get half an hour’s conversation with Bobby Boynton it was necessary to outwit Andy, and he was devoting himself assiduously to the task.

What complicated the matter was that Andy had embraced him in his general affection for humanity, and despite persistent snubbing continued to treat him as the friend of his bosom.  Percival could hate him contemptuously when he was out of sight, but he found it difficult to keep up the dislike when the fat, boyish fellow sat on the sofa opposite his berth and poured out his innermost confidences.

“You see,” he would say plaintively as he reached for Percival’s silver shoe-horn, “I never slide into love, like most fellows.  I always splash right in, head first.  That’s what I did the first night I came on board, and I haven’t come up yet.  When I do, she’ll hit me in the head.  She won’t have me; you see if she does.”

Of course Percival agreed with him, but in the meanwhile he wondered what Bobby could find in him to afford her such constant amusement.

One sparkling morning when the white caps were dancing on the blue water, and every bit of loose canvas was spanking the wind for joy, Bobby announced that she was going again to the crow’s-nest.  She had circled the deck some ten times between her two cavaliers, and the difficulty of keeping mental step with either in the presence of the other may have influenced her sudden decision.

“What do you want to do that for?” said Andy, whose weight made him cautious.  “It’s a mean climb, and there’s nothing to see when you get up there.”

“There’s everything to see,” said Bobby and she looked at Percival.

Ten days ago nothing could have induced him to do such an unconventional and conspicuous thing.  He remembered the exact phrase he had applied to it when told by the Scotchman of Bobby’s previous adventure.  “Characteristically American,” he had remarked, with a disparaging shrug.

Now, with assumed languor, he said, “I don’t mind going with you.”