, as he put his forefinger and
thumb into his waistcoat pocket and extracted a time-stained lucifer,
"do you know what I'd do to you?"

"Stop me smoking?" hazarded Henry cheerfully.

"I would that," said the other, turning to go.

"How old were you when you started smoking?" asked the boy.

"About your age, I expect," said the old man slowly; "but I was a much
bigger chap than you are. A stunted little chap like you ought not to
smoke."

Henry smiled wanly, and began to think that the five pounds would be
well earned.

"Will you have a pipe?" he said, proffering a gaudy pouch.

"Confound you!" said the old man, flashing into sudden weak anger. "When
I want your tobacco I'll ask you for it."

"No offence," said the boy hastily, "no offence. It's some I bought
cheap, and our chaps said I'd been 'ad. I only wanted to see what you
thought of it."

The old man hesitated a moment, and then taking the seat beside him,
accepted the proffered pouch and smelt the contents critically. Then he
drew a small black clay from his pocket and slowly filled it.

"Smokes all right," he said after a few puffs. He leaned back, and half
closing his eyes, smoked with the enjoyment of an old smoker to whom a
pipe is a somewhat rare luxury, while Henry regarded his shabby clothes
and much-patched boots with great interest.

"Stranger here?" inquired the old man amiably.

"Schooner _Seamew_ down in the harbor," said Henry, indicating the
distant town of Stourwich with a wave of his hand.

"Ay, ay," said the old man, and smoked in silence.

"Got to stay here for a few days," said Henry, watching him out of the
tail of his eye; "then back."

"London?" suggested the other.

"Northfleet," said Henry carelessly, "that's where we came from."

The old man's face twitched ever so slightly, and he blew out a cloud of
smoke.

"Do you live there?" he inquired.

"Wapping," said Henry; "but I know Northfleet very well--Gravesend too.
Ever been there?"

"Never," said the old man emphatically; "never."

"Rather a nice place, I think," said Henry; "I like it better than
Wapping. We've sailed from there a year now. Our skipper is fond of it
too. He's rather sweet on a girl who's teacher in a school there."

"What school?" asked the old man.

The boy gave a slight laugh. "Well, it's no good telling you if you
don't know the place," he said easily; "it's a girls' school."

"I used to know a man that lived there," said the other, speak