as something I could do for him; but unfortunately
I have not a particle of influence; I am absolutely powerless."

At this moment the door of the little room opened, and Murray stood
framed in the opening, looking at his friend with an expression in which
weariness, disappointment, and a certain suggestion of relief were
curiously blended. If Dick Penryn was what some people were in the
habit of calling a giant, then Murray Frobisher could only be considered
gigantic. Standing fully six feet four inches in his boots, broad in
proportion, weighing fully sixteen stone, with dark, olive complexion
bronzed almost to the shade of an Arab's by exposure to the weather, and
with clean-shaven cheeks and lips, and close-cropped, wavy black hair,
the man was a truly magnificent specimen of humanity, compelling the
attention of all with whom he came in contact.

"So you're back at last, Murray," shouted Penryn, leaping out of his
chair, and speaking more cheerfully than he felt that the occasion
warranted. "Come inside, man; come inside! Don't stand there in the
doorway letting in all the draught; goodness knows it's cold enough
without that!" And as Murray closed the door behind him, and slowly
pulled forward a chair to the fire, he proceeded: "And what's the news
to-day, old man? Any luck of any sort; or has it been the usual style
of things--offer your services and have them declined with, or without,
thanks?"

"Well," answered Murray in his deep bass tones, stretching out his
half-frozen hands to the blaze, "I hardly know what to think about
to-day. It certainly has been a little different from the usual run of
things, but not very much. During the whole of the morning, and for the
better part of the afternoon, luck was dead against me, as usual. Then,
about four o'clock, there came just one little ray of light to brighten
the darkness."

"Capital!" broke in Dick, cheerfully. "Every little helps, you know.
Straws show which way the wind blows, and all the rest of it. Tell us
about this ray of light of yours."

"Well," answered Frobisher, with a wry smile, "I don't know that it was
very much of a ray, after all; but I'll tell you what happened. I had
been running up and down office stairs from before nine o'clock until
about three in the afternoon, without result, and I became heartily sick
of it; and just by way of a change, I made up my mind to take a run down
to the docks and see whether there was anything d