eters--"

He was interrupted by frenzied and incoherent exclamations from Mr.
Ketchmaid.

"Sol Ketchmaid," he said, with dignity, "I 'ope you're drunk. I 'ope
it's the drink and not Sol Ketchmaid, wot I saved from the shark by
'aving my leg bit off, talking. I saved your life, Sol, an' I 'ave come
into your little harbour and let go my little anchor to stay there till
I go aloft to join poor Sam Jones wot died with your name on 'is lips."

He sprang suddenly erect as Mr. Ketchmaid, with a loud cry, snatched up
a bottle and made as though to brain him with it.

"You rascal," said the landlord, in a stifled voice. "You infernal
rascal. I never set eyes on you till I saw you the other day on the quay
at Burnsea, and, just for an innercent little joke like with Ned Clark,
asked you to come in and pretend."

"Pretend!" repeated Mr. Wiggett, in a horror-stricken voice. "Pretend!
Have you forgotten me pushing you out of the way and saying, 'Save
yourself, Sol,' as the shark's jaw clashed together over my leg? Have
you forgotten 'ow--?"

"Look 'ere," said Mr. Ketchmaid, thrusting an infuriated face close to
his, "there never was a Henery Wiggett; there never was a shark; there
never was a Sam Jones!"

"Never--was--a--Sam Jones!" said the dazed Mr. Wiggett, sinking into his
chair. "Ain't you got a spark o' proper feeling left, Sol?"

He fumbled in his pocket, and producing the remains of a dirty
handkerchief wiped his eyes to the memory of the faithful black.

[Illustration: To the memory of the faithful black 162]

"Look here," said Mr. Ketchmaid, putting down the bottle and regarding
him intently, "you've got me fair. Now, will you go for a pound?"

"Got you?" said Mr. Wiggett, severely; "I'm ashamed of you, Sol. Go
to bed and sleep off the drink, and in the morning you can take Henry
Wiggett's 'and, but not before."

He took a box of matches from the bar and, relighting the stump of his
cigar, contemplated Mr. Ketchmaid for some time in silence, and then,
with a serious shake of his head, stumped off to bed. Mr. Ketchmaid
remained below, and for at least an hour sat thinking of ways and means
out of the dilemma into which his ingenuity had led him.

He went to bed with the puzzle still unsolved, and the morning yielded
no solution. Mr. Wiggett appeared to have forgotten the previous night's
proceedings altogether, and steadfastly declined to take umbrage at
a manner which would have chilled a rhinoceros. He tol