Thus urged, the mate, leaning forward so that his listener might hear better, read steadily through a serial in the first three numbers. The third instalment left Rudolph swimming in a race with three sharks and a boat-load of cannibals; and the joint efforts of both men failed to discover the other numbers. “Just wot I should ’ave expected of ’im,” said the skipper, as the mate returned from a fruitless search in the boy’s chest. “I’ll make him a bit more orderly on this ship. Go an’ lock them other things up in your drawer, George. He’s not to ’ave ’em again.” The schooner was getting into open water now, and began to feel it. In front of them was the blue sea, dotted with white sails and funnels belching smoke, speeding from England to worlds of romance and adventure. Something of the kind the cook said to Ralph, and urged him to get up and look for himself. He also, with the best intentions, discussed the restorative properties of fat pork from a medical point of view. The next few days the boy divided between seasickness and work, the latter being the skipper’s great remedy for piratical yearnings. Three or four times he received a mild drubbing, and what was worse than the drubbing, had to give an answer in the affirmative to the skipper’s inquiry as to whether he felt in a more wholesome frame of mind. On the fifth morning they stood in towards Fairhaven, and to his great joy he saw treess and houses again. They stayed at Fairhaven just long enough to put out a small portion of their cargo. Ralph, stripped to his shirt and trousers, having to work in the hold with the rest, and proceeded to Lowport, a little place some thirty miles distant, to put out their powder. It was evening before they arrived, and, the tide being out, anchored in the mouth of the river on which the town stands. “Git in about four o’clock,” said the skipper to the mate, as he looked over the side towards the little cluster of houses on the shore. “Do you feel better now I’ve knocked some o’ that nonsense out o’ you, boy?” “Much better, sir,” said Ralph respectfully. “Be a good boy,” said the skipper, pausing on the companion-ladder, “and you can stay with us if you like. Better turn in now, as you’ll have to make yourself useful again in the morning working out the cargo.” He went below, leaving the boy on deck. The crew were in the forecastle smoking, with the exception of the cook, who was in the galley over a little private business of his own. An hour later the cook went below to prepare for sleep. The other two men were already in bed, and he was about to get into his when he noticed that Ralph’s bunk, which was under his own, was empty. He went upon deck and looked round, and returning below, scratched his nose in thought. “Where’s the boy?” he demanded, taking Jem by the arm and shaking him. “Eh?” said Jem, rousing, “Whose boy?” “Our boy, Ralph,” said the cook. “I can’t see ’im nowhere, I ’ope ’e ain’t gone overboard, poor little chap.”