"Let him remain," interposed Trenchard. Listen, you. I didn’t dream, not even in my wildest dreaming, that—you might have any need of me. ’ ‘Yes, well, I was too young to see it,’ the captain said, tying a knot in his makeshift bandage. "Miss Enschede, you're seven kinds of a brick!" "A brick?" He chuckled. Chapter VI A QUESTION OF IDENTIFICATION The little man with the closely-cropped beard and hair looked at her keenly through his gold eye-glasses. Nothing at all. When she entered the office a strange scene was presented to her startled gaze.
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