in the crown," suggested Mr Philp; "by reason it's
handier to carry things."

"None of your seafarin' gear, I'll thank you," said Captain Cai hastily.
"I've hauled ashore."

"And mean to settle among us, I hope, sir? . . . Well, then, with the
summer already upon us--so to speak--what do we say to a real Panama
straw? The _Boulter's Lock_ here, f'r instance,--extra brim--at five
and sixpence? How these foreigners do it for the money is a mystery to
me."

"I see they puts 'Smith Brothers, Birmingham,' in the lining," said
Captain Cai.

"Importers' mark, sir,--to insure genuineness. . . . Let me see, what
size were you saying? H'm, six-seven-eighths, as I should judge."
Young Mr Benny pulled out a drawer with briskness, ran his hand through
a number of genuine Panamas of identical pattern, selected one, and
poised it on the tips of his fingers, giving it the while a seductive
twist. "If you will stand _so_, Captain, while I tilt the glass a
trifle?"

Captain Cai gazed hardily at his reflection in the mirror. "It don't
seem altogether too happy wi' the rest of the togs," he hazarded, and
consulted Mr Philp. "What do _you_ think?"

"I ain't makin' no bid for your tail-coat, if that's what you mean,"
answered Mr Philp with sudden moroseness, pulling out his watch.
"I got one."

"Our leading townsmen, sir," said young Mr Benny, "favour an alpaca
lounge coat with this particular line. We stock them in all sizes.
Alpacas are seldom made to measure,--'free-and-easy' being their motto,
if I may so express it."

"It's mine, anyway."

"And useful for gardening, too. In an alpaca you can--" Young Mr Benny,
without finishing the sentence, indued one and went through brisk
motions indicative of digging, hoeing, taking cuttings and transplanting
them.

The end of it was that Captain Cai purchased an alpaca coat as well as a
Panama hat, and having bidden "so long" to Mr Philp, and pocketed his
three-and-sixpence, steered up the street in the direction of Rilla
Farm, nervously stealing glimpses of himself in the shop windows as he
went. As he hove in sight of the Custom House, however, this
bashfulness gave way of a sudden to bewilderment. For there, at the
foot of the steps leading up to its old-fashioned doorway lounged his
mate, Mr Tregaskis, sucking a pipe.

"Hullo! What are you doin' here?" asked Captain Cai.

"What the devil's that to you?" retorted Mr Tregaskis. But a moment
later he gasped and all bu