a cottage door, where a couple of rough-looking men were
waiting about, one of whom held the horse while the doctor descended,
and Syd followed into the room, where a poor fellow lay in great agony
with a badly fractured leg.

This was reduced, Syd looking on, and handing the doctor splints and
bandages as they were required. After this the pair re-entered the gig,
and drove back toward the Heronry.

"Just a quarter to nine, Syd. You'll be back in time for breakfast."

"I think I could set a broken leg now," said Syd, whose thoughts were
still at the cottage.

"Bless the boy!" exclaimed the doctor. "Take one off, I suppose, if it
were wanted?"

"No," said Syd, gravely, "I shouldn't feel enough confidence to do
that."

"I should think not, indeed," muttered the doctor, as he gave a sidelong
look at his companion. "Why, you morbid young rascal, you ought to be
thinking of games and outdoor sports instead of such things as this.
Here we are. Ready for your breakfast?"

"Yes, I am getting hungry," said Syd. "How long will those bones be
growing together again?"

"Confound you--young dog! Go and pick grilled chicken bones. I'll
never take you out with me again. Jump out. Good-bye, sailor."

The doctor nodded and drove off, while Syd walked slowly up to the
house, and entered the dining-room just as his father and uncle came
down, punctual to the moment.

"Ah, Syd," said his father; "you are first."

"Morning, boy, morning," cried his uncle. "Been for a walk on deck?"

"No, uncle; I've been for a drive."

"Drive! Drive!" said his father. "Who with?"

"Doctor Liss, father."

_Bang_!

Sir Thomas's hand made the coffee-cups rattle this time, as he said
sharply--

"Harry, my lad, if I were you I should take this spark up to town and
see Dashleigh at once. I'll go with you."

"Very well. And he can be measured for his kit at the same time, eh?"

"Of course. Mind the tailor makes his clothes big enough, for as soon
as he gets to sea he'll grow like a twig."

Syd sat stirring his coffee, and taking great bites out of his bread and
butter, as the words of Pan came back to him--"If he does I shall run
away, so there!"

CHAPTER THREE.

There was something tempting about that idea of being measured for a
uniform, though Syd declared to himself he hated it. All the same,
though, he went down the garden to where Barney was digging that
morning, and after a little beating about the bush, a