d cheery, with that ruddy complexion common to
Europeans and to natives of the British Isles.

"Lucky beggars," he thought. "They will have everything dear before
them. They will take up the old work as if they had merely been for a
day's shooting up-country, and their friends whom they relieve will take
their bunks and sail away. It would be a fine thing for me if I could
get a billet under the Government."

He lay there for a long time reflecting, and as he did so the ship came
rapidly closer. When a mile from the sandy coast she dropped her
anchor, and those ashore could easily see the splash as it entered the
water. Then she lay to, with her broadside facing the land, rolling and
heaving with monotonous regularity. Dick watched the bustle aboard
listlessly, for it was no unusual sight for dwellers on the Gold Coast,
the White Man's Grave. Time and again he wondered whether there might
be some one aboard to whom he could offer the store and the house, or
some one who would befriend him and perhaps obtain some post for him
which would enable him to work for a living. For as the reader will
have learned, Dick was in difficulties. He had come out some months
before at his father's urgent call, and had barely had time to look into
the business of the store when his father died. Then came the theft of
the gold, and here was our hero stranded indeed, with little experience,
and with very few years behind him. No wonder that he was dismayed.
That as his fingers closed on the five golden sovereigns in his pocket
his mind went time and again to the future, wondering what would happen
when those golden coins had perforce been changed into silver, and the
silver had dwindled away.

"If it had been in London," he said, "I should have soon found work of
some sort, or I would have eagerly taken the Queen's shilling and
enlisted. Here there is no work, at least not for a white man, and
there is no supervising or overseeing job that I can get. Lastly, there
is no recruiting station."

He had but stated the facts. For the past week he had been the round of
the town, and had even gone, cap in hand, to the Governor.

"We're sorry for you, Stapleton," the hitter's secretary had said, as he
shook Dick's hand, "but we have nothing to offer. We can't even take
over your property, nor promise to look after it while you may be away.
The best thing for you to do will be to get back to the Old Country, and
try your luck the