k you for your
own son."

"And you was in that state that you couldn't contradict us," said another
man.

"If it is your bunk," said the captain, sternly, "I suppose you have a
right to it. But perhaps you'll sell it to me? How much?"

"Now you're talking bisness," said the highly gratified Bill, turning
with a threatening gesture upon a speculator opposite. "Wot do you say
to a couple o' pounds?"

The captain nodded.

"Couple o' pounds, money down," said Bill, holding out his hand.

The captain examined the contents of his pocket, and after considerable
friction bought the bunk for a pound cash and an I O U for the balance.

A more humane man would have shown a little concern as to his
benefactor's sleeping-place; but the captain never gave the matter a
thought. In fact, it was not until three days later that he discovered
there was a spare bunk in the forecastle, and that the unscrupulous
seaman was occupying it.

It was only one of many annoyances, but the captain realizing his
impotence made no sign. From certain remarks let fall in his hearing he
had no difficulty in connecting Mr. Kybird with his discomfiture and, of
his own desire, he freely included the unfortunate Mr. Wilks.

He passed his time in devising schemes of vengeance, and when Captain
Hardy, relenting, offered him a cabin aft, he sent back such a message
of refusal that the steward spent half an hour preparing a paraphrase.
The offer was not repeated, and the captain, despite the strong
representations of Bill and his friends, continued to eat the bread of
idleness before the mast.

CHAPTER XV

Mr. Adolphus Swann spent a very agreeable afternoon after his interview
with Nathan Smith in refusing to satisfy what he termed the idle
curiosity of his partner. The secret of Captain Nugent's whereabouts,
he declared, was not to be told to everybody, but was to be confided by a
man of insinuating address and appearance--here he looked at himself in a
hand-glass--to Miss Nugent. To be broken to her by a man with no
ulterior motives for his visit; a man in the prime of life, but not too
old for a little tender sympathy.

"I had hoped to have gone this afternoon," he said, with a glance at the
clock; "but I'm afraid I can't get away. Have you got much to do,
Hardy?"

"No," said his partner, briskly. "I've finished."

"Then perhaps you wouldn't mind doing my work for me, so that I can go?"
said Mr. Swann, mildly.

Hardy played