he boy on the
back, and after referring to a clasp-knive which he remembered to have
left on the grass opposite the Pedlar's Rest, announced his intention
of going back for it. He did go back as far as a bend in the road, and,
after watching Bassett out of sight, hastened with expectant steps into
the inn.

He rested there for an hour, and, much refreshed, walked slowly into
Salthaven. It was past seven o'clock, and somewhat at a loss how to
spend the evening he was bending his steps toward the Lobster Pot, a
small inn by the quay, when in turning a corner he came into violent
collision with a fashionably attired lady.

"I beg pardon, ma'am," he stammered. "I'm very sorry. I didn't see where
I was--Why! Halloa, yaller wig!"

Miss Jelks drew back and, rubbing, her arm, eyed him haughtily.

"Fancy you in a 'at like that," pursued the astonished boatswain. "No
wonder I thought you was a lady. Well, and 'ow are you?"

[Illustration: No wonder I thought you was a lady 118]

"My health is very well, I thank you," returned Miss Jelks, stiffly.

"That's right," said the boatswain, heartily.

Conversation came suddenly to a standstill, and they stood eying each
other awkwardly.

"It's a fine evening," said Mr. Walters, at last.

"Beautiful," said Rosa.

They eyed each other again, thoughtfully.

"You hurt my arm just now," said Rosa, rubbing it coquettishly. "You're
very strong, aren't you?"

"Middling," said the boatswain.

"Very strong, I should say," said Rosa. "You've got such a broad chest
and shoulders."

The boatswain inflated himself.

"And arms," continued Miss Jelks, admiringly. "Arms like--like--"

"Blocks o' wood," suggested the modest Mr. Walters, squinting at them
complacently.

"Or iron," said Rosa. "Well, good-by; it's my evening out, and I mustn't
waste it."

"Where are you going?" inquired the boatswain.

Miss Jelks shook her head. "I don't know," she said, softly.

"You can come with me if you like," said Mr. Walters, weighing his words
carefully. "A little way. I ain't got nothing better to do."

Miss Jelks's eyes flashed, then with a demure smile she turned and
walked by his side. They walked slowly up the street, and Mr. Walters's
brows grew black as a series of troublesome coughs broke out behind. A
glance over his shoulder showed him three tavern acquaintances roguishly
shaking their heads at him.

"Arf a second," he said, stopping. "I'll give 'em something to cough
about."