The Master of the Mint. "Who is it, Bess?" "How should I know?" replied Edgeworth Bess. Lucy entered and Mike followed. "Shall I fetch the light, Captain?" whispered Blueskin. When he was given the telegram he flew to the Praya, engaged the fast motorboat he had previously bespoken against the need, and started for the Macao Passage, with the vague hope of speaking The Tigress. All three, then, burst into an immoderate fit of laughter. Fresh flowers of loveliness have budded, expanded, died. Sir John saw it, and was flattered.
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