n't understand it--never could."

"Well," resumed Barry, "one day, after we reached Sydney, the skipper
and I came to blows--over the girl. I asked for leave--told him I was
going ashore to see the Maynards. He said something foul about the
girl, and so I dropped it into him--knocked him off the break of the
poop on to the main deck. He was nearly killed. I got two months'
gaol."

Rumbling voice nodded again. "An' o' course the gal wouldn't recognise
you again. Don't tell me. _I_ know something about women."

Barry smiled. "But _she_ isn't one of that sort, Mr. Watson. Both she
and her father used to come and see me--the mother hated me. Of
course, when I came out, the owners of the _Maid of Judah_ wouldn't
have anything to do with me after spoiling the beauty of their
curly-headed pet skipper, and so I was stranded for a bit. But I soon
got a berth as mate on a brig called the _Tawera_, trading between
Tahiti, Valparaiso, and Sydney. Used to write to the girl (whose
mother had died meantime) and was putting by money. Then I got into
another mess."

"Women?" queried Watson, puffing solemnly at his pipe.

"No," answered Barry hotly; "didn't I tell you that I used to write to
_her_? I'm not one of that sort."

"Beg pardon, sonny. I'm an old fool. But what was the mess?"

"I left the _Tawera_--like a blind fool--at Tahiti, and sailed for the
Paumotu Group on a pearl-shelling cruise in a cutter. We ran ashore on
a reef off Ahunui, and lost nearly everything of course--I was
half-owner--and lived on the Paumotus for nearly a year before I could
get away to Auckland. Then I came to Sydney--best place for another
ship, you know--but couldn't get one. Had to pawn all my gear to keep
myself going. Didn't care to go and see her--you know, under the
circs--afraid of the old woman, who I didn't know was dead. So I
booted it around trying to get a ship. And now comes the curious part
of my yarn; I had hardly got a ship, when I--just after I left you this
evening--met Mr. Maynard. He's broke, lost all his money in a mine or
something. She--the girl I mean, had to take a berth in a draper's
shop. But I've seen her, and everything's all right, and I'm as happy
as a sandboy. Let's have something to drink. I must hurry off aboard,
and write a letter to her."

"Steady, boy. Steady about drinks," and the old man put his hand on
Barry's knee. "I'll have a drink with you with pleasure, but I'll pay
for