ose, Sammy?" said Steve Martin.

Mr. Dodds nodded and slapped his breastpocket.

"Right as ninepence," he replied genially. "I've been with my lawyer all
the arternoon, pretty near. 'E's a nice feller."

"'Ow much is it, Sam?" inquired Pilchard eagerly.

"One 'undred and seventy-three pun seventeen shillings an' ten
_pence_," said the heir, noticing with much pleasure the effect of his
announcement.

"Say it agin, Sam," said Pilchard in awed tones.

Mr. Dodds, with a happy laugh, obliged him. "If you'll all come down
the foc'sle," he continued, "I've got a bundle o' cigars an' a drop o'
something short in my pocket."

"Let's 'ave a look at the money, Sam," said Pilchard when the cigars
were alight.

"Ah, let's 'ave a look at it," said Steve.

Mr. Dodds laughed again, and, producing a small canvas bag from his
pocket, dusted the table with his big palm, and spread out a roll of
banknotes and a little pile of gold and silver. It was an impressive
sight, and the cook breathed so hard that one note fluttered off the
table. Three men dived to recover it, while Sam, alive for the first
time to the responsibilities of wealth, anxiously watched the remainder
of his capital.

"There's something for you to buy sweets with, my lad," he said,
restored to good-humour as the note was replaced.

He passed over a small coin, and regarded with tolerant good-humour
the extravagant manifestation of joy on the part of the youth which
followed. He capered joyously for a minute or two, and than taking it to
the foot of the steps, where the light was better, bit it ecstatically.

"How much is it?" inquired the wondering Steve. "You do chuck your money
about, Sam."

"On'y sixpence," said Sam, laughing. "I expect if it 'ad been a shillin'
it 'ud ha' turned his brain."

"It ain't a sixpence," said the boy indignantly. "It's 'arf a suvrin'."

"'Arf a wot?" exclaimed Mr. Dodds with a sudden change of manner.

"'Arf a suvrin'," repeated the boy with nervous rapidity; "and thank-you
very much, Sam, for your generosity. If everybody was like you we should
all be the better for it The world 'ud be a different place to live in,"
concluded the youthful philosopher.

Mr. Dodd's face under these fulsome praises was a study in conflicting
emotions. "Well, don't waste it," he said at length, and hastily
gathering up the remainder stowed it in the bag.

"What are you going to do with it all, Sam?" inquired Harry.

"I ain't made up my