time," remarked
the Fremont man, after a keen look at the back of the retreating clerk.
"We'll have to make our own way--and I reckon we can do it. Come on."

He shouldered ahead, Charley in his wake. The emerged aft, on the
upper deck.

"Wait here a moment," bade the Fremont man; and abruptly left Charley
on guard over the baggage. He returned in a minute or two.

"No berths," he reported. "I wanted to find out. Now I know. We can
sleep in the steerage, they tell me. Huh! Not after we've paid extra
for fresh air. Let me look around."

He did, surveying the crowded deck. Suddenly picked up the baggage.

"I see a spot," he said, and led the way.

Just outside the rail, over the stern was slung a large boat--one of
the ship's life-boats. It hung by ropes to the davits, and was covered
with a tarpaulin, or canvas, stretched over it and tied down.

The Fremont man halted, at the rail, and pitched the baggage over upon
the boat.

"There we are," he said with a smile, to Charley. "Some of us can
sleep on top--and if it rains I reckon we can double under. Go get
your father, now, and I'll hold the fort."

Away hurried Charley--excited, and in his mind the idea that this was
to be the queerest bed that he had occupied yet. But he had faith in
the big Fremont man.

He took a look from the rail, to watch the dock below. Most of the
passengers up here were crowded at this rail, to survey just as he was
surveying. The stern had been left comparatively free. There was his
father--he recognized the tall figure, and the limp--just arrived
below, gazing about anxiously. Charley yelled, and waved, but he could
not make himself heard or seen. Too much else was going on. So he
raced down, and rushed out upon the dock.

"Come on, quick, dad," he greeted, breathless. "We've found a place!"

"Who?"

"The Fremont man and I. He found it, though."

"Did you get a berth?" panted his father, following him. "They told me
at the steamship office that every berth was taken long ago. I had to
fight for the tickets, even. Never saw such a mob."

"No, not a berth. But it's a place, anyhow. You'll see."

In the short space of time the upper deck had grown more populous than
ever. They worked their way through the crowd, Charley eagerly looking
ahead for the Fremont man at his post.

"This is awful," spoke Mr. Adams. "The steamship company ought to be
brought to law about it."

"There he is," directed C