Wickett shook his head. "No. I've been watching her. It's the _Clermont_. She's due. And I'm half afraid to go and board her." "Why?" "If my wife's aboard, she'll have with her a fifteen-months-old daughter that I have never seen. Suppose she, too, greets me with--She's swinging back--to her anchorage--look." The green light rolled in a great half-circle inshore, and disappeared. A red light curved into sight. Wickett jumped up. "Come on, Carlin, I'll get permission to leave the ship. We'll be there before she lowers the port ladder." "No, but drop me at the landing on the way and I'll see you in the morning at the hotel. How's that?" * * * * * Carlin saw him before the morning. He was in the lobby of the hotel when Wickett with his wife, a fine big boy, and a lovely little baby girl, got out of the hotel 'bus. The boy was clinging to Wickett's hand, all the while talking rapturously of the trip of the _Clermont_. With his free arm Wickett was carrying the baby, which was murmuring, "Papa, papa, papa!" Carlin would have known Mrs. Wickett without an introduction or the presence of the boy and the baby. Merely from the way she looked at Wickett he knew that this was the girl who had gone sailing with him in the dawn and become engaged before breakfast. "It's all right," smiled Wickett, with his cheek against the baby's. "This one can't seem to say anything but papa!" Carlin nodded, and whispered: "And you couldn't afford it?" Wickett grinned. "We couldn't; but we did. We always do." "And how about the service--going to quit it?" Wickett stared at Carlin. "Quit the service!" Suddenly he recalled, and laughed, and whispered: "Sh-h--! I'm due for a year and a half of shore duty. But don't mind if I hurry along, will you? I got to get these children to bed." "Go on--hurry--and good night," said Carlin. "Good night, Mrs. Wickett," and handed her into the elevator; and smoked two thoughtful cigars on the veranda and then went inside and sat down and wrote a long letter on the subject of the navy as a profession to the mother of a young lad back home. There was much detail, and then: As to being away from home for long periods: Married officers tell me that it is hard at times. But judging by what I saw awhile ago here, the home-coming almost offsets the long absences. The kind of a woman they marry probably makes a lot of difference. I'd say, let him go if he wants to. Good night. Your affectionate brother, SAM. CROSS COURSES Hearing the boys in the office talking of a lecture at the Sailor's Haven a few nights ago was what set me thinking to-day. It was on superstition, and the speaker digressed to expend ten minutes, as he put it, on sailors. A most superstitious lot, sailors.