n the world did you come from?"

The person who had so unceremoniously entered the kitchen was Azuba's
husband, mate of the tramp steamer.

CHAPTER XIII

"For the land sakes! Laban Ginn!" repeated Daniel.

Mr. Ginn grinned cheerfully. He was six feet tall, or thereabouts, and
more than half as wide. His hair and beard were grayish red and his face
reddish brown. He was dressed in the regulation "shore togs" of a deep
sea sailor, blue double-breasted jacket, blue trousers and waistcoat,
white "biled" shirt, low collar--celluloid, by the look--and a "made"
bow tie which hung from the button by a worn loop of elastic. His hands
were as red as his face and of a size proportionate to the rest of him.
He seized the captain's hand in one of his, crushed it to a pulp, and
returned the remains to the chief mourner.

"Well, say," he cried, his grin widening, "that feels natural, don't it?
Last time you and me shook hands was over three years ago. How are you?
Blessed if it ain't good to see you again."

Captain Dan was slowly regaining his equilibrium.

"Same to you, Labe," he returned heartily. "But--but, by Godfreys,
you're the last person I expected to see just now."

"Yep, I shouldn't wonder."

"Sit down, sit down. Humph! Does Azuba know you're comin'?"

"No, not yet."

"Well, sit down and I'll call her. She's here with us, of course."

"Sartin she is. Where else would she be? I knew she was here; heard you
hailin' her just as I made port at the back door. Set down?" He threw
himself into a chair, which groaned under the pressure. "Sure, I'll set
down! Feels kind of good to drop anchor when you've been cruisin's long
as I have. No, Zuby don't know I'm comin'. Last time I wrote her
was from Mauritius. I've been to clink and gone since. She WILL be
surprised, won't she? Ho! ho! Did I leave the hatch open? Here, let me
shut it."

But Daniel himself shut the "hatch," that is to say, the back door. He
was on his way to the stairs, but Mr. Ginn detained him.

"Hold on a shake, Cap'n," he said. "I ain't hardly seen you yet. Let's
have a look at you." Crossing his legs--his feet were like miniature
trunks--he added, "How are you, anyway?"

Daniel replied that he was fair to middling.

"Sit still and make yourself comfortable, Labe," he went on. "I'll tell
Zuba you're here."

"What's your hurry? Give me a chance to catch my breath. I lugged that
dunnage bag," indicating the valise, "from the depot up here, a