You are very kind, Captain to make that offer, but it does not suit me. I would prefer to be somebody, and have something to do. I understand your motives, young man, and promise that in a short time you shall be somebody, as you call it. That is all right, rejoined Webb. Captain Davis will be a father to you, and when we meet again, I hope to address you as Lieutenant Wallace. How would you like to change your name from Wallace to Davis? inquired Davis. For what purpose? asked Walter. That you may appear as my son, and command the respect of all on board. That would be deception, Captain. The Captain felt chagrined. He had not learned the real character of the boy in which he had taken such an interest. He saw at a flash that Walter did not understand his meaning. He meant the offer as a feeler, to see if Walter would consent to his adoption and take his name. He scarcely knew how to extricate himself from the difficulty he had placed himself in by proposing to Walter to change his name. The words “That would be deception, Captain,” still rang in his ears, and raised the boy in his estimation. Webb noticed the Captain’s embarrassment and went to his relief. Walter, I think you had better accept the Captain’s proposition. Which one of them? he asked excitedly. To go on board of the ship, or change my name? To go on board the ship as the guest of Captain Davis and wife. Say no more about the name or position at present Let time determine that. Father, said Walter addressing Webb, I rely on you in this matter. You command and I’ll obey. I command nothing. I merely advise. You are your own master now, and have a right to choose for yourself. Things have changed since we met on the Callicoon. Then you was a stripling of a boy, without home, parents or shelter. But now you are a man, noble, generous and good. Go with Captain Davis, and be to him what you have been to me—a noble, generous son. Father! exclaimed Walter passionately, am I to you what your words imply? Yes, and more. I feel as if you were bone of my bone, and blood of my blood. You are the only child I ever knew—the only one that ever called me father. Tears trickled down Walter’s cheeks, and throwing his arms around Webb’s neck exclaimed: Yes, father—more than a father, what I am, what I shall be, I owe to you. How can I leave you? Captain Davis had been an interested spectator of the scene of love and affection that passed between Walter and Webb. The word _father_ had fallen with significance on his ear. Never had he been addressed by that endearing name, and he now felt that he would give his ship and commission to change places with Webb—to have those manly arms embrace his neck, and hear the endearing word _father_ addressed to him. Rising, he took Walter by the hand:—