tinctly impressive tones:

"That's the man. He's a stowaway."

"See, Wilfred,--see the man? No, no! The one with the mop, dear. Don't
go near him."

"What a dreadful looking creature he is."

"The Captain captured him this morning away down in the bottom of the
ship. He was stealing a ride."

"Poor fellow! He doesn't look like a bad man, does he?"

And so on and so forth, as the day went along.

Masculine strollers had very decided opinions about him. Mr. Landover,
the banker, stopped to discuss the toiling menial with Mr. Nicklestick,
Mr. Block and Mr. Fitts.

"He ought to be in irons," said Mr. Landover, glowering at Percival.
"That's what I told the Captain a little while ago. He's a bad egg, that
fellow is. I'm a pretty good judge of men, gentlemen, and I don't often
make mistakes. That fellow is a fugitive from justice, if he isn't
something worse. Observe the cut of his mouth--ah! see that? What did I
tell you? Did you ever see a more evil grin?"

"Take it from me," said Mr. Nicklestick, "that guy knows a good deal
more about what is going on aboard this ship than he lets on. He ain't
as simple as he looks. I told Captain Trigger just now that he ought to
give him a dose of the third degree. That's the way to get to the bottom
of this business. String him up by the thumbs till he squeals. What say,
Mr. Fitts?"

Mr. Fitts, the architect, was a mild man.

"He strikes me as a rather honest looking sort of chap," he said, and
was promptly glared at by his companions. "Of course," he hastened to
add, "I am not saying that he is all right. He may be as crooked as the
deuce. I'm only saying he's got a rather pleasing sort of face."

"The most innocent, open-faced young fellow we ever had in the bank,"
said Mr. Landover, "turned out to be the damnedest rascal I've ever
encountered."

"How did you happen to have him in the bank if you are such a good judge
of men?" inquired Mr. Fitts, utterly without malice.

Mr. Landover reddened. "My dear sir, I do not come in contact with
every employe of the bank. You forget that it is quite an immense
institution."

"It sure is," said Mr. Nicklestick. "I'm thinking of transferring our
account to your bank, Mr. Landover. We've been banking with--"

"I vas telling my vife at lunch," broke in Mr. Block, twitching his
Hebraic nose emphatically,--"not that we could eat any lunch, by
gracious, no!--I vas telling her I bet my boots dere ain't enough
life-boats to get as