m the
purple sea.

"It's the on'y bit of green stuff you seem to be fond of, Mr. Verity,"
he went on. "You keep us crool short of vegetables."

David's little eyes twinkled. Here was another opening; it would not
be his fault if it led again up a _cul-de-sac_. He threw wide the
window, and they crossed the lawn.

"Vegetables!" he cried. "Wish I could stock you from my place, an' I'd
stuff you with 'em. I can grow 'em 'ere for next to nothing, but they
cost a heap o' money in furrin ports, an' _your_ crimson wave-catcher
doesn't earn money--she eats it."

"Even that's one better'n her skipper, 'oo doesn't do neether,"
commented Coke gloomily.

His employer seemed to find much humor in the remark.

"Gad, we both look starved!" he guffawed. "To 'ear us, you'd think we
was booked for the workhus or till you ran a tape round the contoor,
eh?"

But Coke was not to be cheered.

"I can see as far into a stone wall as 'ere a one an' there a one," he
said, "an' there's no use blinkin' the fax. The _Andromeda_ was a good
ship in 'er day, but that day is gone. You ought to 'ave sold 'er to
the Dutchmen five years ago, Mr. Verity. Times were better then, an'
now you'd 'ave a fine steel ship instead of a box of scrap iron."

They were passing the rhododendrons, and Verity's quick eyes noted that
a summer-house beneath the shade of two venerable elms was unoccupied.
The structure consisted of a rustic roof carried on half a dozen
uprights; it had a wooden floor, and held a table and some basket
chairs. The roof and supports were laden with climbing roses, a
Virginian creeper, and a passion flower. The day being Sunday, there
were no gardeners in the adjoining shrubbery or rose garden, and anyone
seated in the summer-house could see on all sides.

"Drop anchor in 'ere, Coke," said Verity. "It's cool an' breezy, an'
we can 'ave a quiet confab without bein' bothered. Now, I reelly sent
for you to-day to tell you I mean to better the supplies this
trip--Yes, honest Injun!"--for the _Andromeda's_ skipper had clutched
the cigar out of his mouth with the expression of a man who vows to
heaven that he cannot believe his ears--"I'm goin' to bung in an extry
'undred to-morrow in the way of stores. Funny, isn't it?"

"Funny! It's a meracle!"

Though not altogether gratified by this whole-hearted agreement with
his own views, Verity was too anxious to keep his hearer on the present
tack to resent any implied slur on