“Instructor?” exclaimed the marine marvel. “Why, such a prodigious prodigy needs no instructor save his own intuition. Nature has been his instructor. He has listened to the singing of the brook, the wind, the trees, the birds, and the grasshoppers. All those palpitating melodies he has incorporated into his wonderful curriculum of music.” “What did you say the boy’s name was?” asked the inquisitive stranger. “It is Abe—Master Abe.” “But his name in full?” “His name in full, sir? He has never been full!” “I mean his complete name.” “That’s it; that’s the whole of it.” “But what is his history?” “My dear inquisitorial friend,” said the sailor, “you are projecting yourself into our repast and retiring mastication. Speaking about names, it occurs to me that I have never been introduced to you.” “I beg your pardon. My name is Nathan Callgaul.” “Thanks for the information, Mr. Allgaul.” “Callgaul, Cap’n Wiley—Callgaul!” “Well, you may call it gaul or anything you choose, but it occurs to me that your intense curiosity in regard to us is becoming exasperatingly annoying. You had better retire and permit us to persue the even tenor eleven of our ways.” “Oh! very well,” said Nathan Callgaul, shrugging his shoulders. “I have no desire to annoy you.” “You can’t gnaw me,” retorted the sailor. “I wouldn’t permit such familiarity. So long, Mr. Tallgaul. See you later—I don’t think.” As the stranger retired Wiley fell upon the food with an air of ravenous greediness. “Cold!” he muttered. “Cold as Mr. Somegaul’s nerve. William, will you kindly present the check to the gentleman and explain that he has ruined this meal and therefore should pay the bill? It will save me the price, and that will be nice. My! my! there is another poetic accident!” “Cap’n,” said Abe, who seemed strangely agitated, “somehow I am afraid of that man. I know he has been watching me. He was on the train when we came here to this city. I have seen him a number of times since. Something tells me to look out for him.” “My boy, you are troubled with the hallucinations of genius. I am quite sure Mr. Barrel-of-gaul is entirely harmless. He is simply one of those exasperatingly inquisitive persons who desire to know every one’s business better than their own. Fly at the hash, Abe, and satisfy the cravings of the inner man.” Although he tried to eat, the boy found little satisfaction in it, and his relief seemed intense when the man in black finally left the restaurant. “Is he gone?” said Wiley. “Why, William, you failed to present him with the check! He has departed without settling, William! That was a terrible oversight on your part, and I fear you will regret it.” Having paid the bill, Wiley paused ere leaving and looked the expectant waiter in the eye.