cables are not fit to hold her if it
comes on to blow hard."

For some time the wind increased until it blew half a gale. At that
point it continued steady, and as it gave no indication of increasing,
John Welton and his son returned to the cabin, where the latter amused
himself in glancing over some of the books in the small library with
which the ship was furnished, while the sire busied himself in posting
up the ship's log for the day.

For a considerable time they were silent, the one busily engaged
writing, the other engrossed with a book. At last Mr Welton senior
heaved a deep sigh, and said, while he carefully dotted an _i_ and
stroked a _t_--

"It has always been my opinion, Jim, that when boys are bein' trained
for the sea, they should be taught writing in a swing or an omnibus, in
order to get 'em used to do it in difficult circumstances. There she
goes again," he added, referring to a lurch of the vessel which caused
the tail of a _y_ to travel at least two inches out of its proper
course. "Now, that job's done. I'll turn in for a spell, and advise
you to do the same, lad."

"No, I'll go on deck and have a talk with Dick Moy. If the gale don't
increase I'll perhaps turn in, but I couldn't sleep just now for
thinkin' o' the sloop."

"Please yourself, my son, an' you'll please me," replied the mate with a
smile which ended in a yawn as he opened the door of a small sleeping
berth, and disappeared into its recesses.

James Welton stood for a few minutes with his back to the small
fireplace, and stared meditatively at the cabin lamp.

The cabin of the floating light was marvellously neat and immaculately
clean. There was evidence of a well-ordered household in the tidiness
with which everything was put away in its proper place, even although
the fair hand of woman had nothing to do with it, and clumsy man reigned
paramount and alone! The cabin itself was very small--about ten feet or
so in length, and perhaps eight in width. The roof was so low that Jim
could not stand quite erect because of the beams. The grate resembled a
toy, and was of brass polished so bright that you might have used it for
a looking-glass; the fire in it was proportionately small, but large
enough for the place it had to warm. A crumb or speck of dust could
scarce have been found on the floor with a microscope,--and no wonder,
for whenever John Welton beheld the smallest symptom of such a blemish
he seized a brush and s