day Randy was moving some baggage from one side of the lower
deck to the other when Peter Polk came along. As luck would have it,
some trunks were in the way, so that the purser could not pass.

"Look here, you blockhead, why don't you keep this gangway clear?" he
roared to Randy.

"I am trying to clear it now," answered our hero, as calmly as he
could.

"It ought to be kept clear always. Who ordered this stuff here,
anyway?"

"Mr. Malloy."

"He had no business to do it."

"Why didn't I, I'd like to be after knowin'?" came in a voice from
behind the purser, and the head deckhand appeared on the scene.

"Oh, so you're here, are you?" sneered Peter Polk.

"I am that, Mr. Polk. I ordered thim trunks there. Have ye anything
against it?" demanded Malloy, boldly. "If ye have, report to the
captain."

"You're blocking the whole gangway."

"Thim trunks had to be shifted, an' Thompson is shiftin' 'em."

"Humph!"

"I know me juty on this boat, Mr. Polk."

"Well--er--hurry up then and clear this gangway," grumbled the purser,
and walked away. Malloy closed one eye and looked at Randy suggestively
with the other.

"He knew he had no right to interfere--it's not his line o' juty," said
the head deckhand.

Randy completed his work and then went to one of the upper decks, to
fix some of the awnings. To his surprise he found Mrs. Clare and Rose
there, in conversation with Peter Polk.

"Going to Albany?" the purser was saying. "What for?"

"I have a situation there, and Rose is going also," answered the poor
woman.

"What kind of a situation?"

"I am to sew for Mrs. Hadley."

"Not the captain's wife?"

"Yes."

At this announcement the face of the purser dropped. Evidently the news
did not please him.

"You won't find that very pleasant," he said.

"It will be better than starving in the city, Peter."

"How much is she going to pay you?"

Mrs. Clare told him.

"That is not a fortune. You ought to be able to earn more in New York."

"I couldn't get the work."

"I might have gotten something for you, if you had let me know," went
on Peter Polk.

"Thank you--I prefer to look out for myself," answered Mrs. Clare,
coolly.

"This looks as if I was letting one of my relatives live on charity,"
pursued the purser.

"I do not consider it a charity."

"How did the captain's wife hear of you?"

"Why, she--there is a boy on this boat--there he is--he spoke to the
captain about it."

"You mean Randy