"No, guv'ner--an' thank Gawd for it," retorted Sam fervently. "I'm from the blinkin' smoke, like 'e is," indicating his companion with a nod. The little red-nosed man with the flaming waistcoat turned round politely and tried to cough, but he surprised himself, and everybody else, by sneezing seven or eight times instead. Flamank's eyes gleamed. The tall figure of the Rev. Lloyd disappeared through the doorway. Barr smiled mechanically, plainly bored, and said: "Then you both wish to be with the London party, I presume?" Sam said they did, and was quite vehement about it. Bert confirmed his answer. At this, Barr turned and spoke to Flamank. "Put them with the London group. What is there left in fifty-one, twenty-seven?"--meaning township and range. He stood up and leaned over the table, whilst Flamank fished among a pile of papers. "How would this place suit you?" Barr asked, indicating on the map with his finger an attractive square situated about six hundred miles north-west of Winnipeg. Bert carefully examined the location. "It looks very nice," he said, after a moment or two. "It's 'andsome, I calls it," observed Sam, who had squeezed his chunky self in between the little red-nosed man and Bert. As this was the first map Sam had ever inspected, his opinion naturally went a long way with his new pal. The place on the plan to which Barr had referred was a pretty pale-blue section bordered in brown, nicely-shaded, and with a couple of wavy lines--war-paths, probably, thought Bert, who was slightly romantic--running across it obliquely. After a little pause to consider the matter, Bert said: "It's a delightful place, really. That'll suit us fine, won't it, Sam?" Sam thought it was "the best bit of land 'e'd ever clapped eyes on." They were both immensely in love with the location. Barr, through his A.D.C., allotted them adjoining homesteads. Flamank, with pen poised over paper, looked at Bert and said: "Name, please." "Bertrand Paul Tressider." "----And yours?"--this to Sam, who was dreamily caressing his turned-up nose. "Samuel Adolphus Potts--guv'ner." They handed over their entry fees and, after a record of the location of the land had been duly made, turned and left the cabin. With new bubbly feelings in their respective young hearts, they descended to the dreary steerage deck. Sam glanced disdainfully at the watery waste surrounding them. It still rained dismally. After spitting in the ocean once or twice, he said, meditatively: "A 'undred an' sixty blinkin' acres of land's a lot, ain't it, Bert?" "A half-mile square. Why?" "Oh, nothink. I feel too prahd ter speak." Bert laughed and strolled away. "Hey!" Sam called to him. "If you 'appen ter see my man abaht anywhere, tell 'im I want 'im at once, will yer?"