ere's a train goin'
soon."

This made the captain think of the railway passes, and he thrust his
hand into the pocket where he kept his wallet. The pocket was empty!
He tried the other pockets, but they were in the same condition! The
passes and the remainder of his money were gone, stolen by some clever
pickpocket that very morning perchance. He turned upon Terry a face
full of consternation.

"I've been robbed, Terry," said he hoarsely. "We can't go to Boston
to-day; I've lost the passes, and all my money too."

CHAPTER IX.

FROM FRIEND TO FRIEND.

Terry's face when he heard Captain Afleck's startling news was verily a
study. The joy which the moment before had irradiated it vanished like
a flash, and in its place came a look of blank despair that would have
touched a heart of stone.

"Whirra, whirra!" he moaned, shaking his head dolefully; "and what's to
be done now? We can't walk all that way, can we?"

In spite of his mental distress the big seaman burst out into a laugh.

"Walk all the way, Terry!" he cried; "not a bit of us. If I can't
manage better than that, you can put me down for a first-class booby."

At this moment a hand was laid gently on his shoulder, and turning
round he found at his side the gentleman who had been unintentionally
the cause of their mishap.

"Pardon my addressing you," said he courteously, "but I am really very
much grieved that you should have been put to so much inconvenience on
my account. Won't you do me the favour to come home with me to lunch?
My carriage is waiting for me."

For a moment Captain Afleck hesitated. Then, seeing that the
invitation was sincere, and feeling glad to find a friend in his time
of need, he looked at Terry, saying, "Shall we go with the gentleman,
Terry?"

Terry nodded a vigorous assent. So the invitation was accepted, and
presently they were rolling up Fifth Avenue in a luxurious carriage,
wondering what good fortune awaited them.

The carriage stopped at a handsome residence, into which they followed
their host, and being shown by a servant into a dressing-room, were
enabled to make their toilet before going to lunch.

Mr. Travers had no family, and they were therefore spared the ordeal of
facing female society, while his genial manner soon put them both so
entirely at their ease, that almost unconsciously they told him their
whole story, since the collision in Boston Harbour. Nor did their
confidence stop there; for