Every Man for Himself | Page 9

would come in. Ordinarily he could have steered by the
illuminated dial of the City Hall clock and the spire of St. James'; but
the fog obliterated all landmarks.
They were both very damp from exposure to the mist, but it is doubtful
if either of them was aware of it. He made several further attempts to
discover her identity without avail; at every turn she evaded him
skillfully and it was beginning to look as if she would step ashore and
vanish into the fog without leaving behind her a single clue for him to
follow. This illusiveness was an added spur to his desire to know this
girl. He did not believe that she was a married woman at all. It was a
conclusion which seemed to be justified by her elaborate precautions to
make him think otherwise. Because of some foolish notion of the
conventions she intended to go as she had come, taking advantage of
the fog to write down the night's adventure in a book which must be
closed to him for all time and forgotten.
Deliberately Phil held back the canoe. They were within a few strokes

of the landing now.
"Listen to me very carefully," he began. "I am going to ask you for the
last time to tell me your name or the name of some friend whom I can
get to introduce me to you properly. Isn't that fair? I have told you the
truth about myself and will hand you my card to prove it. You must
play equally fair with me or----"
"Or what?" she demanded haughtily as he hesitated.
"Or--well, take the consequences," he finished lamely.
"Which are--? Be explicit, Mr. Kendrick."
"Well, I might turn around and paddle you back to the Island and leave
you there, for one thing. The circumstances are not such as entitle you
to the consideration I have shown you. For all I know, you may be an
ordinary crook. Think it over, madam. Is there any reason why I should
not call you 'kiddo' and help myself to a kiss? Is there?"
"Yes--the fact that Philip Kendrick is a gentleman. I dare you to prove
it otherwise!"
"It is kind of you. If you are so sure of it, why won't you give me a
chance? Come on, be a sport. I will promise anything you wish to meet
you legitimately, and I really would regret it very much if I thought----"
"I have told you already that it is impossible," she interrupted coldly. "I
always understood it was a woman's prerogative to choose her
acquaintances. I am grateful for your services tonight, of course; but
beyond that---- The fact is, I do not care to know you, Mr. Kendrick.
Please put me ashore and say good-bye."
A cold fire of resentment burned in Kendrick's eyes as he drove the
canoe to the landing with a few skillful strokes. Why had he been so
foolish as to tell her his real name? Why didn't she want to know him?
Without a word he caught the canoe in one hand and stepped out. He
felt along the gunwale to the bow and fastened the painter to an iron

ring in the planking, then handed her out safely. He retained his grasp
of her hand.
"A moment ago you dared me to kiss you," he said gravely. "I am not
in the habit of taking dares from anybody."
"Let go my hand at once, sir. You know very well you cannot so far
forget yourself as to take such a liberty. I dare you to prove yourself no
gentleman."
"I warn you----!"
"I dare you!"
"Very well! On your own head be it, then! The boatman is worthy of
his hire," he paraphrased and laughingly he seized her in his arms and
kissed her.
The next instant he received a resounding slap in the face. It had young
muscles and indignation behind it and it found him unprepared. He
started back automatically, tripped, lost his balance and fell into the
water.
"Oh, you--you miserable--fresh Aleck!" came her mortified cry.
She lingered only long enough to make sure that he could swim. As he
drew himself out of the water the sound of her running feet died out on
the pier.
With chattering teeth Kendrick cast loose, seized his paddle and drove
it deep into the water. Ye gods, what a fool! Very angry at himself, he
set out across the bay once more, guided by the derisive bawling of the
fog-horn at the Eastern Gap.
CHAPTER III
"NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS"

At no time had it been Phil Kendrick's habit to entertain an inflated
opinion of his own importance. On occasion he had ridden around the
gridiron on the shoulders of idolatrous students; but his modesty