like yo' own ship,
Honey"--she was saying to him before we had them both fairly in the
boat. It was Drislane she had, his head cuddled on her knees till the
tug came and got us.

We weren't in time to get to the man she had left behind. The last we
saw of him was his head sticking out like a turtle's from under the
fallen spar as the _Orion_ went under.

* * * * *

We were all in Boston by Christmas Eve; that is, all of course but
Oliver Sickles--and nobody gibed at his memory for that. He had his good
reason.

The tug rushed the two crews up the harbor to our dock, where I left
them while I went to get carriages and warm clothes and so on. When I
came back Drislane and his Rose were gone and no word behind them. But
the day after Christmas he came to the office early to get his
semiannual check and cash it. I wasn't there, but he left word for me
that he and Rose were married, and he was going to take my advice and go
home to his people. The office force said that with him was a girl of
glorious Titian hair and super-physique, who smiled wonderfully on him.

Captain Norman married the girl he should have married in the first
place. And so all the good people came happy out of it; all except our
firm. Nine thousand tons at two dollars per ton--there was eighteen
thousand dollars' worth of freights that we never collected.

* * * * *

So there's the _Orion_ and _Sirius_ thing, only, in telling it at the
Sailor's Haven the other night, our old stevedore didn't say anything of
Rose's part in it. He probably didn't see what that had to do with it.
However, he said enough to convince the lecturer, who was a pretty
fair-minded kind, that perhaps he would have to reconstruct his views
about sailors' superstitions.

And perhaps there is something in it; but it's a poor case won't stand
hearing both sides of the evidence. "Hoodoo ships!" It's a fascinating
phrase, but--Oliver Sickles it was who held the wheel of the _Orion_,
and it was Drislane to the wheel of the _Sirius_, when they came
together.

[Illustration: It was Drislane she had, his head cuddled on her knees
till the tug came and got us.]

LEARY OF THE "LIGONIER"

It was a gloomy house, set in the shadow of a rocky bluff, and made more
gloomy within by the close-drawn curtains. Since the news had come of
the loss of John Lowe's son, no man in all Placentia Bay could say he
had seen tho