rough, brown hunting corduroy--leaped aboard
followed by two fine dogs. Then the laboring engines, with puff and
shriek, kept on their way; while Dan continued his investigations, and
made friendly overtures to a big deck hand who volunteered to show the
eager young questioner "below."

And "below" they went, down steep, crooked steps that led away from all
the glitter and splendor above, into black depths, lit only by fierce glow
of undying fires. Brawny, half-naked figures fed and stirred the roaring
flames; the huge boilers hissed, the engines panted; but through all the
darkness and discord came the measured beat of the ship's pulse that told
there was no shirk or kick,--that all this mighty mechanism was
"obeying."

And then, this dark sight-seeing over, Dan came up again into the bright,
sunlit deck crowded with gay passengers chatting and laughing. Brother
Bart was making efforts at conversation with an old French priest
returning to his mission in the Canadian forests; Dud had introduced Jim
to his fashionable friends, and both boys were enjoying a box of
chocolates with pretty little Minnie Foster; Freddy was still "resting" in
his stateroom.

All were unmindful of the dark, fiery depths below, where fierce powers
were working so obediently to bear them on their happy, sunlit way, that
was widening each moment now. The smiling shores, dotted with farms and
villages, were stretching away into hazy distance; there was a new swell
in the waves as they felt the heart-beat of the sea. It was all new and
wonderful to Dan; and he stood leaning on the deck rail of a secluded
corner made by a projecting cabin, watching the sunset glory pale over the
swift vanishing shore, when he was suddenly startled by a deep voice near
him that questioned:

"Worth seeing, isn't it?"

Dan looked up and saw the big grizzled stranger in corduroy gazing at the
splendor of the western sky.

"Yes, sir," answered Dan. "It's great! Are we out at sea now?"

"Almost," was the reply. "Not in the full swell yet, but this is our last
sight of land." He nodded to a promontory where the delicate lines of a
lighthouse were faintly pencilled against the sunset.

"Jing!" said Dan, drawing a long breath, "it feels queer to be leaving
earth and sun and everything behind us."

His companion laughed a little harshly. "I suppose it does at your age,"
he said. "Afterwards" (he stopped to light a cigar and puff it into
glow),--"afterwards we get u