"I mean that it was a pity you missed the boat, you and Hobson, wasn't it? What was the weather like in Chicago?" "Hot," Crawshay replied. "I was hotter there than I ever expect to be again in this world." "A long, tiring journey, too, from Halifax." "Not only that, sir," Crawshay agreed, "but a dirty journey. I like to travel with the windows down--cold water and fresh air, you know, for us English people--but the soft coal you burn in your engines is the most appalling uncleanly stuff I have ever met." "Still, you got here," Jocelyn reminded him. "I got here," Crawshay agreed with an air of satisfaction. "And you can take a bath three times a day, if you feel like it, on board," Jocelyn continued. "I'm afraid you won't find much else to do." "One can never tell," Crawshay sighed. "I have started on ocean trips sometimes which promised absolutely nothing in the way of entertainment, and I have discovered myself, before the end of the journey, thoroughly interested and amused." "Nothing like looking on the bright side of things," Jocelyn observed. Crawshay turned his head and contemplated his companion for a few moments. Jocelyn Thew, notwithstanding his fine, slim figure, his well-cut clothes and lean, handsome face, carried always with him some nameless, unanalysable air of the man who has played the explorer, who has peered into strange places, who has handled the reins which guide the white horse of life as well as the black horse of death. "I am quite sure," he said, in a tone of kindly approval, "that I shall find you a most interesting companion on this trip. You and I must have a little further conversation together. I have won a considerable sum of money, I may say, by my--er--exploit, and I have invited some of these newspaper fellows to take a drink with me before luncheon in the smoking room. I hope you will join us?" "I shall be delighted," Jocelyn accepted. "A drink with a friend, and a little mutual toast, is always a pleasure." Crawshay paused. They were standing outside the entrance to the captain's cabin. "I quite agree with you," he said. "Exercise your ingenuity, Mr. Jocelyn Thew, and think out a toast that we can both drink sincerely. You will excuse me? I am going in to talk to the captain for a few minutes. There are a few matters concerning my personal comfort which need his attention. I find the purser," he added, dropping his voice, "an excellent fellow, no doubt, but just a trifle unsympathetic, eh?" "I have no doubt you are right," Jocelyn agreed. "We will meet again, then, just before one o'clock." CHAPTER VI Crawshay knocked at the door of the captain's room, received a stentorian invitation to enter, and sank a little plaintively into a vacant easy-chair. The purser, who had been in close confabulation with his chief, hastily took his leave. "Good morning, sir," the visitor said languidly. "Good morning, Mr. Crawshay," the captain replied. "Feeling a little stronger this morning, I hope?"