The old firm

Front matter

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Chapter II

F OR the twentieth time within the past ten minutes Mr. Samuel Clark studied the clock on the mantel¬ shelf of the “Jolly Sailors’ ” tap-room, and then, mak¬ ing querulous mumblings, shifted himself restlessly about in his chair.

It was manifest that a nervous anxiety possessed the stout ferryman. Indeed, his agitation had already found abundant expression in a heated altercation with another customer, who had responded humorously to a question of Mr. Clark’s with regard to the accuracy of the clock’s time-keeping. And this had led the landlord to take sides, making remark on the queerness of Mr. Clark in now imagining the clock so slow when it was always his custom at closing-time to complain noisily that this same clock was a good quarter of an hour fast.

Unfortunately, the landlord’s partizanship had stung Mr. Clark to an impolitic irritation, and from the jagged peaks of this reckless mood he had assailed his opponents with such a storm of furious oratory that, in the end, the landlord falsely pretended a concern in his licence, and subjugated Mr. Clark by a stern order to depart forthwith.

Mr. Clark, at this decree, had at once been reduced to an abject and almost grovelling humility, professing utter contrition for what he had said, and vowing that he had not really meant a word of what he said, and yet, at the same time, confusedljj* arguing that he had not spoken without justification. And, eventually, the landlord had loftily accepted his apology, and the cus- 18 tomer had most exasperatingly warned Mr. Clark to be careful another time, and had gone off with a perkiness which had set Mr. Clark secretly yearning for the con¬ junction of darkness and a brick.

An hour back all this had happened, when Mr. Clark had already been in the tap-room ninety minutes, for he had come thither at the beginning of the dinner-hour equipped with a stack of ship’s biscuits, and a look of determination. And, since the wordy disturbance, Mr. Clark had sat in a corner, fretting silently at the crawl¬ ing drag of time, and the landlord had made a little habit of coming frequently to the bar to glance severely at Mr. Clark and then going away again without saying a word.

This was the situation when Mr. Joseph Tridge ar¬ rived, and Mr. Clark at once gave a little cry of joy, and almost hysterically insisted on paying for beer for Mr. Tridge to drink.

“I should never ’ave thought I could ’ave been so pleased to see you, Joe!” declared Mr. Clark. “I been sitting ’ere wondering sometimes if it wasn’t all a dream what ’Orace said.”

“It may be a dream yet,” Mr. Tridge warned him in tones that were so unsprightly that Mr. Clark was at once moved to alarm.

\ “Oh, don’t say that, Joe!” begged the stout ferry¬ man. “If you knew ’ow set I am on the idea of going

back to sea on the old Mane Gladys’-! Do you—do

you think ’Orace will manage it ?”

“I dunno,” hesitated Mr. Tridge. “ ’Orace is-”

He pursed his, ligs^pl shook his head dubiously.

“ ’Orace is ’Ora fe jrllr. Clark loyally reminded him.

“Aye, there’s jtlwltbout it,” agreed Mr. Tridge, more confidently. “ ’Orace is ’Orace!”

Mr. Lock, sauntering in, was just in time to catch the remark.

“Ah! and there’s no one else quite like old ’Orace,” he asserted.

There was a little wait while the three indulged in contemplation of the rare qualities of their friend and leader. A sunny smile broke out on Mr. Clark’s face; Mr. Tridge shook his head in amusement at some re¬ miniscence; Mr. Lock chuckled aloud in sudden recol¬ lection of one of Mr. Dobb’s audacious achievements. And, while these wordless tributes were being paid to his powers, Mr. Dobb himself arrived opportunely on the scene.

He entered in a quick, business-like way, and Mr. Clark noted, with a thrill of increased hope, that Mr. Dobb was wearing his scarf-pin and rings, and had a flower in his buttonhole. In something of the style of a chairman who is about to preside over a company meeting where a big dividend will be declared, Mr. Dobb sate himself down at a table and his companions eagerly grouped their chairs about him.

“Well, ’ere we all are!” observed Mr. Dobb very pleasantly. “How, the first thing is—who’s got any money ?”

At this familiar query, the brightness of the assembly was abruptly eclipsed. A moan of disappointment floated from Mr. Clark’s lips, and even Mr. Lock’s habitual sunniness could not prevent him from the com¬ ment of a bark of sarcastic mirth.

“Thought as much!” angrily declared Mr. Tridge. “That is about all ’Orace’s great ideas ever comes to! Well, I’m paying for my own, and no one else’s, so that settles that , far as I’m concerned. ‘ ’Oo’s got any money V ” he mimicked in high disgust. “Bah!”

“When I say ‘money’,” continued Mr. Dobb imper¬ turbably, “I means ‘money.’ I ain’t alluding to a few stray coppers and a dirty little tanner or two. I mean money —big money. This ain’t a swindle for drinks. This is fi-nance. See ? And till I know ’oo’s got any money worth mentioning, we can’t get much further.”

He gazed round him questioningly. Mr. Clark merely oscillated bis bead in wonderment at such hardihood. Mr. Tridge stared back at him defiantly, and made fierce mutterings in bis throat. Mr. Lock, folding bis arms, smiled dispassionately at the wall.

“We must ’ave capital!” postulated Mr. Dobb.

An entirely unsympathetic silence engulfed the state¬ ment.

“We want to form a signdikit,” explained Mr. Dobb, a little desperately. “That’s the idea.”

Again there was silence, and then Mr. Tridge spoke Hn a markedly cold tone of voice.

“You got up a signdikit once before, ’Orace,” be reminded him.

“Aye, so ’e did, when we was laying in Sharpness Docks,” recalled Mr. Clark. “Got up a signdikit to buy a calf.”

“That’s it,” confirmed Mr. Tridge. “ ’Orace col¬ lected the money off of us to pay for the calf, and the calf went and died.”

“So be said,” softly interpolated Mr. Lock.

“Died sudden, afore the rest of us ’ad even seen it,” Continued Mr. Tridge. “And the signdikit died sud¬ den, too.”

“I’ve told you a ’undred times,” said Mr. Dobb pa¬ tiently, “it ’ad to be destroyed under the foot-and-mouth disease. Ho one was more surprised than me when I went to fetch it aboard the night we sailed.”

“No, ’Orace,” observed Mr. Tridge, very definitely, “signdikits is off!”

“All right, then,” readily returned Mr. Dobb, rising from his chair, “so am I!”

“ ’Ere, don’t go like that, ’Orace!” cried Mr. Clark. “Tell us the idea, before you go, any way.”

“Well, it starts with a signdikit, as I’ve told you,”' said Mr. Dobb, sitting down again at once and staring challengingly round him. “We all puts something into it.”

“And one of us,” darkly intimated Mr. Tridge, “takes it all out again.”

“We shares the profits according to what we puts in,” explained Mr. Dobb.

“What profits ?” sceptically asked Mr. Tridge.

“The profits we earn as a signdikit, of course!”

“But 'ow do we earn ’em ?” persisted Mr. Tridge.

Mr. Dobb leaned forward across the table on folded arms, and the look on his face was that of a card-player about to put down an irresistible trump.

“Well,” he drawled, “ ’ow does ’Orace & Co., ship¬ owners, strike you, eh ?”

And, when his companions could begin dimly to bring the suggestion into focus, he had his moment of tri¬ umph.

Mr. Tridge, making handsome amends for his recent behaviour, rose and forcibly pounded Mr. Dobb’s shoulder, shouting aloud his unshakable belief that Mr. Dobb was a wonder, a knock-out, and a marvel, and challenging the universe to produce the equal to Mr. Dobb. Mr. Clark, ever a slave to the impulses of emo¬ tion, leaped to his feet, and performed a little series of pirouettes indicative of joy. Mr. Lock, dropping his attitude of amused detachment, captured a hand of Mr. Dobb’s and shook it fervently.

“Come into a fortune?” harshly inquired the land¬ lord, appearing at this demonstration of high spirits.

“No,” airily returned Mr. Dobb. “Only coming.”

None the less, the lingering presence of the landlord imposed greater restraint, and the quartet, settling to their table again, resumed the gravity of business.

“Well, this is my idea,” said Mr. Dobb. “We’ll buy up the old ‘Jane Gladys.’ We can get ’er for a song. She was only bought at the sale to be broke up. Why, she didn’t fetch much more than twenty-five quid, and with labour so dear to break ’er up, they’ll be glad to sell her at the least bit of profit. We’ll get her for a pound or two over thirty quid, I’ll bet.”

“ ’Ow about fitting ’er out again, though ?” soberly asked Mr. Tridge. “That’ll cost a good bit.”

“I’ve thought that out,” responded Mr. Dobb. “We’ll raise a loan on the old boat, see, to pay for ’er fitting out. All we’ll need in cash is just the money to buy her hull and to keep her going for a bit. Us four’ll be her crew, and we shan’t draw no wages, because our share’ll be a share of the profits.”

“And we’ll go from port to port, and, knowing what we do, and knowing as much as we do,” said Mr. Tridge, “it’ll be odd if we don’t work up a good connexion pretty quick! That’s the idea, ain’t it ?”

“Exactly! It’ll be a little gold mine!” prophesied Mr. Dobb elatedly. “And us four all together again and no end of—of doings! The old life under ’appier conditions—’ow’s that, boys ?”

“Business combined with pleasure,” summarized Mr. Lock.

“We shall be our own masters,” said Mr. Dobb. “There’ll be no blessed trouble with skippers and owners. We shall be our own bosses!”

“We shall ’ave to ’ave a skipper, though,” mused Mr.

Tridge, dubiously. “Board o’ Trade, to say nothing of someone to act as figger’ead, and ”

“Well, I thought p’haps as I -■” said Mr. Dobb,

and coughing modestly. “You know, in a coat with brass buttons-”

“Ordering me about?” inferred Mr. Tridge jealously. “No fear!”

“We’d better ship a skipper,” said Mr. Lock. “It’ll save a lot of trouble and ill-feeling. And we can al¬ ways sack him and get a new one when we feel like it. We shall enjoy that.”

“I come across our old skipper of the ‘Jane Gladys’ the other day,” mentioned Mr. Clark. “Poor old Peter Dutt ain’t enjoying retired life ashore on a pension, not a little bit. In fact, come to think of it, ’e did tell me ? e sometime ’ad ’alf a mind to go back to sea. I dare¬ say Vd ’ave told me more still, only ’e ’appened to be out with Mrs. Dutt at the time. She’d walked on, you see, and she give ’im just one call. 'Peter!’ she calls, sharp, and ’e regular fell over himself starting to run after ’er to catch up with ’er.”

“Well, maybe we’ll offer him the job,” said Mr. Dobb largely. “However, let’s get back to the money part. You’ve heard what I’ve got to say. Now who’s got any money ?”

“’Ow much ’ave you got, ’Orace, old chum?” in¬ quired Mr. Tridge.

“Well, for myself,” answered Mr. Dobb, “I daresay I wouldn’t mind putting forty quid into the signdikit.”

“I daresay,” agreed Mr. Tridge, warily. “But ’ow much ’ave you got?”

“Forty quid, cash and notes,” replied Mr. Dobb. “Mostly cash, and nearly all small coins at that. I told you this morning I’d put a hit aside for a rainy day, didn’t I ? Well, this is my little umbrella. See? Now what about you, Joe ? ’Ow much are you good for ?”

Mr. Tridge stroked the nape of his neck and yielded himself to the slippery paths of mental arithmetic. Twice was he on the point of definite statement, and then perceived a flaw in his calculations. Impressing the aid of a pencil and paper, he industriously wrote down and crossed out figures for some while. Eventu¬ ally he felt empowered to say that, if one or two of his creditors did not unduly press him, and that if the cheque of the new proprietor of the Magnolia Toilet Saloon was all that it purported to he, he could under¬ take to subscribe twenty pounds to the capital of the syndicate.

Mr. Peter Lock, next approached on the matter, re¬ minded the meeting that he was a young married man, with a young wife and a very young child, and there¬ fore no plutocrat. If, however, he were given a brief while in which to look around, he felt sure that ten pounds would not be a sum unattainable to him.

“Seventy pounds, so far,” totalled Mr. Dobb, with satisfaction. “That ain’t so bad. And now,” he went on, looking none too expectantly at Mr. Clark, “what about you, Sam?”

Mr. Clark coughed, tickled the lobe of his left ear, glanced about him helplessly, and then shifted his feet.

“All I shall ’ave for certain next Saturday,” he said, “is thirty-five bob. Thirty-five bob—and out of that I’ve got to pay me week’s lodgings. And that’s all I’ve got,” he concluded, gazing piteously from one to the other—'“that and the claims of old friendship.”

“Oh, well, we’ll ’ave to sign you on in the ordinary way!” said Mr. Tridge, with lofty kindliness. “And we’ll get our value out of you in work, you can make yourself sure.”

“By rights, Sam,” Mr. Dobb severely reminded him, “we oughtn’t to let you in at all. Us three is all capi¬ talists, you see, and you’re only a protillerian, as they calls it. ’Owever, if you keeps your place, and is prop¬ erly grateful, you won’t find us hard masters. Let’s see—capital seventy pounds. It’ll be a tight squeeze, but we shall manage it,” he foretold with confidence.

“The tighter the squeeze, the better you always man¬ ages it, ’Orace,” declared Mr. Clark, ingratiatingly.

Three minutes later, after offering a libation to the throne of the gread god, Luck, the four set off from the “Jolly Sailors” to advance, without delay, the affairs of the syndicate. The proximity of the “King’s Head” prompted another generous propitiation of that same god, Luck, and when they had unstintedly done him honour there, they repeated the ceremony at the “Eight Bells,” and so felt at last fully insured for the first steps in their enterprise.

Arm in arm did Mr. Dobb and Mr. Tridge and Mr. Lock march up Shorehaven’s ancient High Street. As they went they debated alluring possibilities, such as the carrying of passengers with a liking for card-playing, or quoting special rates of freightage for distilled goods, or obtaining premiums for apprentices. And behind them stalked Mr. Clark, subdued, but uneasy, for he had been reminded to keep his place as a hireling when, a few minutes back, he had complained because a glass On which he had only just started had been inad¬ vertently emptied by Mr. Tridge.

Half-way along the High Street, Mr. Dobb parted from his fellows, and entered an office, and was there engaged in negotiation for awhile. Emerging at length, n lie beamed upon bis companions, and told them all was well, and that the refitting of the “Jane Gladys” would present no difficulties. As soon as the syndicate could produce proof of ownership, the enterprising ship¬ builder Mr. Dobb had just interviewed would permit a limited, but still adequate credit.

An understanding such as this amply demonstrated the effectiveness of the rites which had been paid to the mighty Luck, and common prudence suggested further honour to that deity to woo continued favour. Therefore, then, was the “Cutlass and Cannon” visited, and after that the “Full-Rigged Ship.” And here casual mention of the name of the “Jane Gladys” brought from a frequenter the gratifying intelligence that the present owners of that disreputable hulk had professed an entire willingness to rid themselves of her for twenty-five pounds.

“Said that a fortnight ago, did they?” queried Mr. Dobb. “Then we’ll go right along now and offer ’em twenty! Finance—that’s our game!” he vaunted, with an airy twirl of his fingers in the air. “ ’Igh fi-nance!”

And thereon the party set forth for the ship-breaker’s yard, and now Mr. Clark was promoted to a closer equality with his shipmates, so that Shorehaven’s nar¬ row thoroughfares were scandalized by the riotous progress of four citizens joined arm in arm and evi¬ dencing desire to sing and laugh and talk simultane¬ ously. And thus, ebullient, the syndicate arrived at the gates of the ship-breaker’s domain, and Horace, to the accompaniment of cheers from his supporters, prepared to make his way to the proprietor of the business.

“I shall start by offering him fifteen,” he said. “And if they ’angs out for more than twenty, I shall pretend to break off the deal.”

In view of this strategy, none of his comrades was surprised to see him emerge from the ship-breaker’s office within a minute of entering it. But they were not quite prepared for the look of angry dismay on his face, and his first words came as a distinct shock to them.

“Been soldl” he announced curtly.

“ ’Oo’s been sold ?” asked Mr. Tridge.

“She has—the old Mane Gladys’! Sold to someone. Sold three days ago!”

“But—but—but we’re a signdikit,” urged Mr. Tridge, a little hazily. “Did you tell ’im that, ’Orace ?”

“I told him a lot of things before that blessed clerk of his showed me out! I reckon as we’ve been swindled out of our rights! After all, we was going to buy her, wasn’t we ?”

“Let alone us ’aving served on ’er,” contended Mr. Clark warmly. “If there’s such a thing as law, that ought to count!”

“People ain’t got no right to come along, taking the very bread out of our mouths!” observed Mr. Tridge with rancour.

Heavily, dully, the four confederates wandered away from the scene of their disappointment, and somehow found themselves silently filing into the “East India* man Inn.” And here they discovered a little plump gentleman who greeted them with a high good-will, nicely tempered with hint of superior rank.

“ ’Afternoon, sir,” said Mr. Dobb, politely enough, for the presence of Captain Peter Dutt, their former skipper on the “Jane Gladys,” was sufficient indica¬ tion of imminent hospitality.

“Hot getting too ’igh and mighty to be seen talking to a poor old sea-captain, then ?” smiled Mr. Dutt. “And you all doing so well, too! Business as good with you as ever, I suppose, ’Orace?”

“Better than ever,” affirmed Mr. Dobb.

“And Joe a regular lord in ’is own shaving parlour, and Peter snug and comfortable in a steady berth, and old Sam Clark, there, master-mariner of a ferry. Ah, you boys ’ave done well,” approved the little captain.

“We ’ave, sir,” their pride impelled them to ac¬ quiesce.

“Shore life has suited you better than it suits me,” remarked Captain Dutt slowly.

“Ah! and ’ow is Mrs. Dutt, sir?” courteously asked Mr. Dobb. “Quite herself ?”

“Quite!” said the skipper, and seemed to repress further information concerning his spouse. “By the way,” he went on, leaning towards them, “I’m going to tell you a little secret. I’m going back to the sea.”'

He drew back to regard the effect of the announce¬ ment upon them, and complacently wagged his head at their murmurs.

“I am, and you’ll never guess the old boat I’m going in command of, neither!”

“Hot—not—not the old Mane Gladys’?” stammered Mr. Dobb.

“That’s the boat. The old Mane Gladys.’ There’s a gent—well, he’s been quite a gent to me, any way—

he’s bought her, and- And this is in confidence,

mind. I don’t want my missis to get to hear of it just yet.”

A ready chorus promised secrecy of the deepest.

“Aye, a gent’s bought the old boat—a gent with pots and pots of money. Some folks might call him a profiteer, but that don’t seem to me altogether respect¬ ful. But he’s going to have the old Mane Gladys’ fitted out as a sort of yacht. Rosewood etceterys! Silk cur¬ tains l” mentioned Captain Dutt in tones almost rev¬ erent. “Up’olstery! Electric light!”

“And you’ve got the ticket ?” queried Mr. Dobb, blinking.

“Aye, I got to hear what was in the wind, and I got a gent who knows a gent who knows him to put in a word for me. He don’t know anything about the sea. Seems to me all he wants is a chance to knock about and spend a lot more money.”

“ ’S’trewth!” murmured Mr. Dobb. “A job on the old ‘Jane Gladys’ under them conditions—what a chance for doings!”

“And I don’t mind telling you,” continued Captain Dutt, “in a way, I’m sorry you’re all doing so well ashore. You see, he left it to me to engage a crew, and naturally I’d like chaps who served with me before, and-”

Within thirty seconds the personnel of the “Jane Gladys’ ” crew was a matter abundantly and emphati¬ cally and all but legally settled. Long after Captain Dutt had quitted the “East Indiaman,” libation after libation was still being poured at the altar of the great god Luck.

“I know I shall wake up in a minute,” Mr. Clark had come to muttering over and over again, with an amazed incredulity in his own good fortune.

Mr. Tridge blissfully dreamed long dreams of him¬ self in a snow-white costume, reclining on the upholstery of a boat owned by a millionaire, and therefore certain to be liberally found in choice and rare liquors. Mr. Lock, for his part, saw visions of himself promoted to a sort of super-stewardship.

And Mr. Horace Dobb did nothing but remind the company that he, and he alone, had set in train the sequence of visits which had brought them to so en¬ trancing a prospect.

“But don’t forget that this here toff is really the man what has done us out of our rights with the ‘Jane Gladys/ ” he requested his hearers. “If it ’adn’t been for him, she’d ’ave been our boat by now. So I reckon we ’ave every right to try to get our own back”

“What do you mean, ’Orace?” asked Mr. Lock, “How can we get our own back ?”

“I don’t know,” admitted Mr. Dobb frankly. “But there’s something I don’t quite understand what is mak¬ ing my mouth water. ‘Rosewood etceterys,’ ‘pots of money,’ ‘don’t know nothing about the sea,’ ” he quoted. “Things like that mean chances to chaps like us. P’raps we’ll still be the owners of the ‘Jane Gladys’ some day. [Who knows?”

“ ’Orace, don’t be too ambitious,” warned Mr. Tridge. “Don’t you try to pick up more than you can lift.”

“Mind you, I don’t really know what I do mean. But there’s something theref* stated Mr. Dobb, tapping his forehead. “Hinstinct, I suppose it is. And it tells me that there’s big days ahead. Anyway, the signdikit is by no means busted, and we’ve still got our capital if we want it. Don’t let any of us forget for a moment that we’re still ‘ ’Orace & Co.’ Drink up, boys! I give you the toast—‘ Orace & Co.’—good luck to ’em!”

They honoured the toast to the very last driblet in their glasses and then, roseate, sat back and looked at each other out of bright, bright eyes.

Chapter III

G OSSIPS of Shorehaven, lingering at each other’s gates during the flaccid hours of the afternoon, or, if the opposite sex, foregathering on the swingbridge of the harbour in the cool of the evening, unanimously agreed that never before had there been such a wealth of local material for comment and criticism as the past six weeks had lavished forth.

To begin with, there had been piquant developments in the commercial life of the little town. Though only affecting two establishments, each of small size, the changes loomed large in public interest, for the two enterprises shared an ethical atmosphere peculiarly their own.

Of these businesses, one was the Magnolia Toilet Saloon, and it had recently passed from the proprietor¬ ship of Mr. Joseph Tridge. y

Ho one who was aware of the consistent inaccuracy of Mr. Tridge’s sporting calculations was surprised by the transfer of the saloon to alien hands. It was the tardiness of its incidence that gave spice to public dis¬ cussion of the matter.

The other establishment which had become involved in change was the little shop in Fore Street, heretofore inspired and controlled by Mr. Horace Dobb.

Completely transferred now was the character of its trade. Ho longer did it concern itself with the comings nnd goings of second-hand furniture and third-hand oddments. The whole of its musty, rusty stock had 32

S3 been acquired to the uttermost cracked teapot in one comprehensive deal, by a rival trader.

At present the shop made hid for patronage by ex¬ hibiting in its window an unpractised confusion of cheap stationery and homely medicaments and inex¬ pensive adjuncts to the feminine toilette.

Mr. Dobb now only too evidently had no active share in the conduct of its business, though sometimes he was to be seen in shirt sleeves and slippers at the doorway, sunning himself somewhat defiantly, and Hinging terse replies over his shoulder into the interior of the shop.

But, when questioned as to his intentions for the fu¬ ture, he would merely shrug his shoulders, as though to intimate that the subject was really not worth dis¬ cussion. . . .

Again, Shorehaven found much to exercise its mind in the equivocal behaviour of Mr. Samuel Clark.

That stout and ancient functionary, when at length his actions had inevitably brought him under catechism, roundly declared that his sole desire, as a widower of long standing, was that he should be left in peace by all females for the remainder of his years.

In view of this statement, his behaviour towards one lady in particular was entirely baffling.

She was a Mrs. Brockway, a stranger to the locality, and she had made a sort of hobby of using the ferry¬ boat, though only when Mr. Clark was in charge. And he, despite his professed misogyny, was frequently to be observed resting on his sculls in mid-stream in order to wag an arch forefinger at his fair freight. Moreover, when setting her down at the landing-place, he had sev¬ eral times been overheard to address to her parting words which, when shrewdly analysed, proved to be not completely devoid of tender significance.

Yet, when this Mrs. Brockway might come again to the ferry, she would find a substitute for Mr. Clark officiating in his boat, while Mr. Clark himself, though he alleged distressing ailments as reasons for his ab¬ sence from duty, was in the window of the “Jolly Sailors” all the time, nodding and smiling with cynical derision at the lady’s disappointment.

Also, there was the case of Mr. Peter Lock for the town to condemn.

A month ago, and more, had Mr. Lock precipitately quitted the employ of the “Royal William” Hotel, and still he had not yet been detected in the act of en¬ deavouring to secure another situation.

That he should find other outlet, and, preferably, other scenes for his labour, was a course constantly recommended to him by those who wearied of hearing him narrate diverting anecdotes which ended unexpect¬ edly in a direct financial appeal. Mr. Lock, however, always burked the topic of work by asserting his com¬ plete agreement with the axiom that points the futility of meeting trouble halfway.

Shorehaven, aware that Mr. Lock possessed a wife, a child, and a great many creditors, restively sought to controvert this philosophy 'of his, but Mr. Lock merely smiled his ingenuous smile, and expressed his unwav¬ ering confidence in the workings of Providence.

But above all these personal matters, towering su¬ preme in public interest, was the astounding change of fortune which had come to the erstwhile unsavoury barque, the “Jane Gladys.”

After a long and smudgy career of petty traffic upon the nearer seas, she had actually been awaiting disin¬ tegration at a shipbreaker’s yard, when she was re¬ prieved, at the last moment, from so conclusive a fate.

Not only was her disruption arrested, but it was in¬ definitely postponed, for the whims of destiny had ordained that she was to he refitted and set again to creeping about the surface of the waters.

Shorehaven soon contrived to learn that the saviour of the “Jane Gladys” was a gentleman of extraordinary wealth. The fact that he had garnered his riches dur¬ ing the closing stages of that great war which so thor¬ oughly achieved its splendid ideal of preventing all future warfare, could not but lay his commercial methods open to suspicion. So extensive was his opu¬ lence, however, that respect for it almost immediately eclipsed every other emotion in the breasts of Shorehaven’s population.

It was the design of this gentleman, Shorehaven was permitted to learn, to proceed hither and thither upon the sea with an ease and dignity appropriate to his wealth. To that end had he purchased the “Jane Gladys,” acquiring her in preference to the orthodox steam-yacht of his compeers, because he was tempera¬ mentally averse from ignoring anything which looked like a bargain.

But, having secured the “Jane Gladys,” he at once took steps to make her more congruous with his own high estate, and, in furtherance of that noble aim, he had issued a sequence of stupendous orders.