ng in of the long-boat with considerable interest.

As it drew near, the figure of the man pulling the bow-oar seemed oddly
familiar to me. Where could I have seen him before? When and where? His
back was towards me, but there was something about that closely cropped
head that I recognized instantly.

"Way enough!" cried the steersman, and all the oars stood upright in
the air. The man in the bow seized the boat-hook, and, turning round
quickly, showed me the honest face of Sailor Ben of the Typhoon.

"It's Sailor Ben!" I cried, nearly pushing Pepper Whitcomb overboard in
my excitement.

Sailor Ben, with the wonderful pink lady on his arm, and the ships and
stars and anchors tattooed all over him, was a well-known hero among my
playmates. And there he was, like something in a dream come true!

I didn't wait for my old acquaintance to get firmly on the wharf, before
I grasped his hand in both of mine.

"Sailor Ben, don't you remember me?"

He evidently did not. He shifted his quid from one cheek to the other,
and looked at me meditatively.

"Lord love ye, lad, I don't know you. I was never here afore in my
life."

"What!" I cried, enjoying his perplexity. "Have you forgotten the
voyage from New Orleans in the Typhoon, two years ago, you lovely old
picture-book?"

Ah! then he knew me, and in token of the recollection gave my hand such
a squeeze that I am sure an unpleasant change came over my countenance.

"Bless my eyes, but you have growed so. I shouldn't have knowed you if I
had met you in Singapore!"

Without stopping to inquire, as I was tempted to do, why he was more
likely to recognize me in Singapore than anywhere else, I invited him to
come at once up to the Nutter House, where I insured him a warm welcome
from the Captain.

"Hold steady, Master Tom," said Sailor Ben, slipping the painter through
the ringbolt and tying the loveliest knot you ever saw; "hold steady
till I see if the mate can let me off. If you please, sir," he
continued, addressing the steersman, a very red-faced, bow-legged
person, "this here is a little shipmate o' mine as wants to talk over
back times along of me, if so it's convenient."

"All right, Ben," returned the mate; "sha'n't want you for an hour."

Leaving one man in charge of the boat, the mate and the rest of the
crew went off together. In the meanwhile Pepper Whitcomb had got out his
cunner-line, and was quietly fishing at the end of the wharf, as if to
give me th