As soon as the _Pacific Queen_ was moored at Auckland, Barnes saw that Dave got most of the money due to him as wages, urging that he had not enough clothes to keep him warm. Barnes did not like to lose the lad, but he had youngsters of his own, and he knew Dave had been submitted to more unkindness than necessary at the hands of the mate. “Good-bye, kid,” he said, wiping his greasy hand to shake that of the boy. “Heaven knows it’ll be a stroke of bad luck for any ship’s cook that gets you to help him. I’m glad to be rid of you. But remember what I’ve told you. Don’t jump aboard any old tub. You’re a smart enough youngster except for your lack of brains and your impidence, and you know how to take care of yourself a bit better now, but ships isn’t all as comfortable as the _Pacific Queen_. I expect I’ll be bumping up against you again somewhere or other. Don’t sign on to any craft where the crew speak an un-Christian lingo, or they might flay you alive. I learnt my lesson that way on a Portugee boat, afore you were thought of.” Carrying his suitcase, Dave went up the gangway, thrilled at the idea of putting his feet on foreign soil. He spent some hours walking along the wharves, where vessels of all nationalities, rigs, and sizes were lying, each one busily loading or unloading. He did not feel in any hurry. There was more money in his pocket than he had ever possessed at any one time, and it was money of which he was proud, for he had earned it. Dave felt no compunction about having left the _Pacific Queen_. Mr. Quick did not want him, and he did not want Mr. Quick. Now both parties were satisfied. Barnes was the only person who really might be inconvenienced, and he had said he could easily get some one else “more useful and less impident.” After amusing himself by watching the shipping for a while, Dave decided to keep out of the way until the following evening, by which time his old ship would have sailed. Boarding a street car, he travelled at random to another part of the town, where he began to search for a room. Seeing an elderly man digging in a cottage garden, he spoke to him over the fence. “Can you tell me where I could get a room for a few nights?” the boy asked. The man straightened his back. “I don’t jest know,” he said, surveying Dave, who was wearing his only respectable suit of clothes. “I’ll speak to my missis.” The “missis,” a portly soul with a jovial face, came out. “I’ve got an empty room that my son had afore he went up-country,” she said. “You can have that if you don’t mind roughing it.” “I’m used to roughing it, being a sailor,” replied Dave, feeling just a little bit important. “For the land’s sake!” the woman exclaimed, scanning him more closely. “I’d never have thought it. You’re only a boy although you are so tanned.”