he
second engineer appeared in the opening, shadowy in the sheen of the
skylight at his back, with his face apparently as black as the rest of
his figure.

"We have been very long coming up this time," Mr. Massy growled, without
changing his attitude.

"What do you expect with half the boiler tubes plugged up for leaks."
The second defended himself loquaciously.

"None of your lip," said Massy.

"None of your rotten boilers--I say," retorted his faithful subordinate
without animation, huskily. "Go down there and carry a head of steam on
them yourself--if you dare. I don't."

"You aren't worth your salt then," Massy said. The other made a faint
noise which resembled a laugh but might have been a snarl.

"Better go slow than stop the ship altogether," he admonished his
admired superior. Mr. Massy moved at last. He turned in his chair, and
grinding his teeth--

"Dam' you and the ship! I wish she were at the bottom of the sea. Then
you would have to starve."

The trusty second engineer closed the door gently.

Massy listened. Instead of passing on to the bathroom where he should
have gone to clean himself, the second entered his cabin, which was next
door. Mr. Massy jumped up and waited. Suddenly he heard the lock snap in
there. He rushed out and gave a violent kick to the door.

"I believe you are locking yourself up to get drunk," he shouted.

A muffled answer came after a while.

"My own time."

"If you take to boozing on the trip I'll fire you out," Massy cried.

An obstinate silence followed that threat. Massy moved away perplexed.
On the bank two figures appeared, approaching the gangway. He heard a
voice tinged with contempt--

"I would rather doubt your word. But I shall certainly speak to him of
this."

The other voice, Sterne's, said with a sort of regretful formality--

"Thanks. That's all I want. I must do my duty."

Mr. Massy was surprised. A short, dapper figure leaped lightly on the
deck and nearly bounded into him where he stood beyond the circle of
light from the gangway lamp. When it had passed towards the bridge,
after exchanging a hurried "Good evening," Massy said surlily to Sterne
who followed with slow steps--

"What is it you're making up to Mr. Van Wyk for, now?"

"Far from it, Mr. Massy. I am not good enough for Mr. Van Wyk. Neither
are you, sir, in his opinion, I am afraid. Captain Whalley is, it seems.
He's gone to ask him to dine up at the house this evening."

Then h