Dave’s heart beat a little faster than usual as he walked home. Nothing had been farther from his mind earlier in the day than definitely to ask for a job on a vessel. Now he was as good as booked to sail in a week! In the excitement of the moment he had quite forgotten to ask where the ship was bound for. All he knew was her name――the _Pacific Queen_. As a matter of fact, he was not deeply concerned as to her destination. Any point of the compass was equally satisfactory to him. Perhaps he rather favored China or Japan, but any other old place would do nearly as well. He felt supremely happy and much more important than he ever remembered. Although he had not officially “signed on,” the big captain with the deep laugh had said he would fill the billet, and Dave was prepared to take the captain’s word for it. The only thing that made him thoughtful was the fact that he would have to go without telling his father or Aunt Martha. There did not seem to be any way out of that difficulty. If he told Aunt Martha, she would make a fuss and his father would hear of it, and Dave knew what that would lead to. Captain Hallard had definitely said his son was not to go to sea until the following year, and when Captain Hallard said a thing he meant it. Dave weighed the whole situation up carefully on his way home and decided the best thing was to disappear quietly to prevent a scene. He would just leave a note for his dad, explaining matters, and promising to return home immediately he got back to America. That programme was all right in theory until he reached the house. As soon as he entered the door he felt that Aunt Martha’s eyes were on him, and that she somehow knew. As a matter of fact Aunt Martha did glance at him, but not more closely than she always did. He was as dear to her as her own son would have been. David tried to act in a perfectly natural manner, but when a boy has just arranged to go to sea on the impulse of the moment, he would be more than human if he failed to show that something unusual was in the wind. “What’s come over the lad?” Aunt Martha exclaimed after a while. “You’re dancing around like a pea in a hot frying pan.” This surprised Dave. He was under the impression that he was exceptionally quiet. “You’re all excited and worked up,” declared Aunt Martha. “I expect you’ve been to one of these ball games or watching red Indians at the movies, haven’t you?” “No,” replied Dave, subsiding into a chair and making an iron resolution not to move a muscle for five minutes at least. “Then I guess you’re feverish. Why, I never saw your cheeks so flushed.” Dave stood the ordeal well. He buried himself in a book, pretending to read, but the words danced under his eyes. He, David Hallard, was a sailor at last, or at least as good as a sailor. In seven short days school and Brooklyn would be things of the past. He would be “outward bound.” The words had a fine ring to them. There was to be no waiting for twelve dreary months.