out a
good man, and give him a free hand; that seems the best thing to be
done."

The two observers saw all that Ferrier had seen, and suffered a little
of what he had suffered. Before they had their vessel's head pointed for
home, Cassall remarked: "That young Sawbones must have a reasonable
pluck, mind you, Roche. I find it hard enough to keep my feet, without
having to manage delicate operations; and you notice that we've heard at
least fifty of the men talk about this Ferrier's skill with his hands."

"That's your man, Cassall, if you only knew it. I shall make a point of
meeting him. You haven't seen my plans, have you? Well, I've employed
myself since we came out in trying to design every kind of fitting that
you're likely to need. I used to be very good at that kind of thing, and
I'm very glad my hand hasn't forgot its cunning. I shall test young
Ferrier's judgment over my drawings, and that will be a good pretext for
meeting him."

"The spring is on us now, Roche. We must use that youngster to get at
people. He must have some kind of personal magnetism. Did you notice how
that fellow choked and sobbed when he told us how the youngster refused
to leave him during the gale? A good sign that. We must have parties to
meet him, and let him do the talkee-talkee lecturing business. I
shouldn't wonder if my girl found the nerve to speak. If you had only
heard her oration delivered for my private gratification, you would have
been pretty much amazed. She shall spout if she likes."

"I see you've set up a new hobby, my friend, and I can back you to ride
hard. Seriously speaking, I never knew any cause that I would assist
sooner than this. That fellow Fullerton was once described to me by a
Jew as 'hare-brained.' It needed a curious sort of hare-brain to build
up such an organization as we have seen. I may tell you a little secret,
as we are alone. When I was fighting my way up, I was very glad to
attend a working man, and I starved genteelly for a long time in a big
fishing-port. I assure you that in those days a fisherman was the most
ill-conditioned dog on God's earth. He knew less of goodness than a dog
does, and I think you could see every possible phase of hoggishness and
cruel wickedness on a Saturday night in that town. It used to be a mere
commonplace to say that no one should venture into the fishermen's
quarter after dark. There is a big change. You snarl at parsons a good
deal, I know, but you can't snarl a