o the tiny harbor the inhabitants come down to see it, and the
skippers of small craft pop up from their cabins and yell out to know
where it's coming to. Even when they see it bound and guided by many
hawsers they are not satisfied, but dangling fenders in an obtrusive
fashion over the sides of their ships, prepare for the worst.

"We won't find 'im 'ere, cookie," said Sam, as the syndicate sat on
deck on the evening of their arrival gazing contemplatively at the
few scattered lights which appeared as twilight deepened into night.
"Lonesome little place."

"I ain't got much 'ope of finding 'im anywhere," assented the cook.

"If it wasn't for fear of Dick finding 'im," said Sam viciously, "or the
boy, I'd just give it up, cookie."

"If anybody finds 'im it'll be the skipper hisself," said the cook,
lowering his voice as the person alluded to passed them on his way
ashore. "He goes to the police station with the portrait and arsts them
there. What chance 'ave we got after that?"

The seaman shook his head, and after sitting for some time in silence,
went ashore with the cook and drank himself into a state of hopeless
pessimism. In this condition he forgave everybody, and feeling very low,
made his will by the simple process of giving his knife to Dick and two
and sevenpence to Henry. The trouble he had in revoking it next morning
furnished a striking illustration of the depths to which poor humanity
can descend.

It was bright and fine next day, and after breakfast his spirits rose.
The persistent tinkle of a cracked bell from a small brick church in
the town, and the appearance of two girls walking along the quay with
hymn-books, followed by two young men without, reminded him that it was
Sunday.

The skipper, who was endeavoring to form new habits, obeyed the summons
of the bell. The mate took a healthful walk of three miles, while the
crew sat about the deck watching the cook's preparations for dinner, and
occasionally lending him some slight assistance. It was not until the
meal was despatched that they arrayed themselves in their Sunday clothes
and went ashore.

Dick went first, having thoughtfully provided himself with the
photograph which had been lent for the use of all of them. He walked at
first into the town, but the bare shuttered shops and deserted streets
worked upon his feelings, and with his hands in his pockets, he walked
back in the direction of the harbor. Here he got into conversation
with a