'" But at this point he was interrupted by the appearance
of a dense crowd that half filled the street, and drew up in silent
expectation opposite my front door. Dear me, I had quite forgotten
I had sent for him. But the boy who cleans the boots and knives has
returned, and brought with him _the One Policeman_!

* * * * *

THE BOY THE FATHER OF THE MAN.

(_A CHAPTER FROM A SEA STORY OF THE FUTURE._)

"Lash the lubber to the top-gallant yard and give him five hundred
with the cat o' ninetails!" shouted the pirate Captain, blue with
passion.

There was a murmur amongst his crew. Because their messmate had
forgotten to touch his cap, it seemed hard to their poor untutored
minds he should receive so heavy a punishment.

"What, mutiny!" cried the ruffian skipper, "here take this and this
and this!" and he distributed the contents of his revolver amongst the
sailors aft.

In the meanwhile, the poor wretch was hanging to the topgallant yard,
expecting every moment to be his last.

"A sail, Sir," said the boatswain, saluting, as he mounted to the
quarter-deck.

"Get ready the torpedoes, and serve out per man a hundredweight of
smokeless powder cartridges. We shall have rough work." Then he added,
"By the way, what is the time?"

"About half-past two, Sir," returned the other, and then, as his
Captain made an unsuccessful grab, he muttered, "No you don't!"

The ship in pursuit came on apace, and soon the two vessels were
yard-arm to yard-arm engaged in mortal combat. For a while the
confusion was so great that it was impossible to say what would be the
upshot. But a fortunate torpedo sent the pirate craft to the bottom,
and of all her crew, only the skipper survived. He was brought (loaded
with chains) before his conqueror.

"Well, you scoundrel," said the British Captain, "have you anything to
urge in your defence before we prepare you for your execution?"

"What would be the good?" was the sulky reply. "I know my fate."

"That voice, those husky tones," exclaimed the epauletted
representative of the English Admiralty; "surely I know them. They
bring back painful recollections. Show your face, Sirrah!"

"Why should I?" queried the conquered Chief. "It won't do me any
good!"

But at a gesture of the British Captain, his prisoner was seized, and
his face forcibly washed.

"What, BILLY TOMPKINS!" murmured the Briton, "and we meet again like
this!"

"Yes," answered the other,