the bookseller that he had known the author, and that for
years they had served together on the same vessels at sea. He told how
the writer, who was the former second engineer of the _Fernfield_, had
done many things for the little Dutch lad whose own father had died at
sea. Then came another surprise.

"I believe you're one of the characters in the story," said the
bookseller.

It was so. The book was "Casuals of the Sea," the author, William McFee,
who had been a steamship engineer for a dozen years; and Drevis Jonkers
found himself described in full in the novel as "Drevis Noordhof," and
playing a leading part in the story. Can you imagine the simple sailor's
surprise and delight? Pleased beyond measure, in his soft Dutch accent
liberally flavoured with cockney he told the bookseller how Mr. McFee
had befriended him, had urged him to go on studying navigation so that
he might become an officer; and that though they had not met for
several years he still receives letters from his friend, full of good
advice about saving his money, where to get cheap lodgings in Brooklyn,
and not to fall into the common error of sailors in thinking that
Hoboken and Passyunk Avenue are all America. And Tommy went back to his
yacht chuckling with delight, with a copy of "Casuals of the Sea" under
his arm.

Here my share in the adventure begins. The bookseller, knowing my
interest in the book, hastened to tell me the next time I saw him that
one of the characters in the story was in New York. I wrote to Tommy
asking him to come to see me. He wrote that the _Alvina_ was to sail the
next day, and he could not get away. I supposed the incident was closed.

Then I saw in the papers that the _Alvina_ had been halted in the
Narrows by a United States destroyer, the Government having suspected
that her errand was not wholly neutral. Rumour had it that she was on
her way to the Azores, there to take on armament for the house of
Romanoff. She was halted at the Quarantine Station at Staten Island,
pending an investigation.

Then enters the elbow of coincidence. Looking over some books in the
very same bookshop where Tommy had bought his friend's novel, I
overheard another member of the _Alvina's_ crew asking about "Casuals
of the Sea." His chum Tommy had told him about his adventure, and he,
too, was there to buy one. (Not every day does one meet one's friends
walking in a 500-page novel!) By the never-to-be-sufficiently-admired
hand of chan