rs, an' that you two were for settin' up house alongside one another.
Hunken was the name, if I remember?"

Again Captain Cai glanced at the ship-chandler. He was plainly puzzled,
as the ship-chandler was plainly nettled. But he answered simply--

"That's it--'Bias Hunken."

"Have I met the man, by any chance?"

"No," said Captain Cai firmly, "you haven't, or you wouldn't ask the
question. He's the best man ever wore shoe-leather, and you can trust
him to the end o' the earth."

"I can't say as I know a Hunken answerin' that description," Mr Bussa
confessed dubiously.

"You've heard the description, anyway," suggested Mr Rogers, losing
patience. "And now, Peter Bussa, what d'ye say to running off and
annoying somebody else?"

The Quaymaster fawned, and was backing away. But at this point up came
Barber Toy, who for some minutes had been fretting to attract Captain
Cai's notice, and could wait no longer.

"Hulloa, there! Is it Cap'n Cai?--an' still carryin' his gaff-tops'l,
I see" (this in pleasant allusion to the tall hat). "Well, home you be,
it seems, an' welcome as flowers in May!"

"Thank 'ee, Toy." Captain Cai shook hands.

"We was talkin' business," said the ship-chandler pointedly.

"Then you might ha' waited for a better occasion," Mr Toy retorted.
"Twasn' mannerly of ye, to say the least."

"Better be unmannerly than troublesome, I've heard."

"Better be both than unfeelin'. What! Leave Cap'n Cai, here, pass my
door, an' never a home-comin' word?"

"I was meanin' to pay you a visit straight away; indeed I was," said
Captain Cai contritely. "Troy streets be narrow and full o' friends;
and when a man's accustomed to sea-room--" He broke off and drew a long
breath. "But O, friends, if you knew the good it is!"

"Ay, Cap'n: East or West, home is best."

"And too far East is West, as every sailor man knows. . . . There, now,
take me along and think' that out while you're giving me a clip; for the
longer you stand scratching your head the longer my hair's growing."
He turned to Mr Rogers. "So long, soce! I'll be punctual at
twelve-thirty--what's left of me."

CHAPTER II.

THE BARBER'S CHAIR.

"This _is_ home!" Captain Cai settled himself down in the barber's chair
with a sigh of luxurious content. "I've heard married men call it
better," said Mr Toy, fetching forth a clean wrapper.

"Very likely." The Captain sighed again contentedly. "I take no truck
in marriage, for my