at last he had secured the offer of regular
and profitable employment--although not quite along the lines he had
hoped for--he let out a whoop of rejoicing that made the cottage ring.

Having completed his toilet, Frobisher came downstairs whistling, to
find Penryn standing in front of the fire, warming his coat tails and
sniffing hungrily, while from the direction of the kitchen came certain
savoury smells.

"'Morning, Murray!"

"'Morning, Dick!" was the response. "What's for breakfast this
morning?"

"Don't know," answered his friend, "but it smells like eggs and bacon,
and steak and mushrooms, and chops and kidneys on toast. I hope so, at
any rate, for I'm hungry this morning, and feel quite ready for a
snack."

"Snack!" laughed Frobisher. "Is what you have just mentioned your idea
of a snack? It sounds to me more like the menu of an aldermanic
banquet. By the way, I didn't know the parcel-postman had arrived yet;
he's early, isn't he?"

"Oh," replied Dick, turning rather red, "I thought I'd put that away.
No, the postman hasn't been. That's just something I went out for,
early this morning, for--oh--for a friend of mine."

"Sorry, old man," said Murray, "I didn't mean to be inquisitive. By the
way, is there a train to town somewhere about nine or half-past? I
should like to catch it if there is."

"One at nine twenty-three," answered Dick. "You'll catch it easily.
And now, here's Tom with the breakfast; bring yourself to an anchor, and
let's begin. I'm as hungry as a hunter. How about yourself?"

"Rather better than usual this morning," laughed Frobisher. "A little
hope is a splendid thing for giving one an appetite." And with this
remark both the young men fell to with a will.

The meal finished, Frobisher hurried off to catch his train; travelled
up to London; crossed the city; and took another train down to the
docks. Arrived there, he enquired the whereabouts of the steamer
_Quernmore_.

"Over there, sir," a policeman told him, pointing to a spot about two
hundred yards distant; and thither the young man made his way, halting
presently at the shore end of a gangway leading on to the steamer, to
take a good look at the craft that was to be his floating home for so
long a period.

Certainly, he told himself, if one might judge by appearances, Captain
Drake had ample justification for being proud of his steamer; for she
was as pretty a model of a craft as Frobisher, for all his long
e