"I know. Well, before we could begin to break cargo there came a couple of dandy fine gentlemen, with a peremptory order to take them to Constantinople as fast as we could go, and we were hustled away before you could say 'boots.' We were less than a day's sail from Constantinople, when one of the dandy men mentioned in confidence to me that the men up there were barefoot and they were going to buy boots for them." "What did you say?" asked Jim expectantly. "Well, I said more'n I should perhaps. Dandy men or no dandy men, I said, 'Why, you ---- fool, I'm loaded to the hatches with boots and nothing but boots! Why in thunder couldn't you open your mouth sooner?' 'Our instructions,' says he, 'were to buy boots, captain, not to go talking about it, and I'll thank you not to use language unbecoming a gentleman when talking to me.' And he walked away to talk to the other, who was sick in his bunk." "And what did you do?" asked Jim. "I shut off steam," said the captain, with a meaning wink, "and presently he came up again and said they'd decided we'd better turn back again and take the boots to the feet that were waiting for them. And I've no doubt they're rotting on Balaclava Quay now with all the other things. Why, if my owners did their business as the Government does its they'd be bankrupt in a year." After his cup of tea Jim went below to see that Seth was comfortably stowed. He found him, with a couple of hundred others, lying in long rows in the 'tween decks, which had been adapted to their use as far as it was possible to do so. They lay pretty close, and each man had a couple of blankets to soften the wood and keep out the cold. At one end were half a dozen wounded officers. Between them and the men had been left a space of a few feet, and that was the only distinction between them. To make room for Seth this space had been encroached upon, and he lay next the officers. As Jim rose from his knees after a short chat with him, in which he had done his best to put a little heart into the poor fellow, by assuring him that he should be properly provided for when he got home to Carne, he heard his name called weakly from the officers' quarters, and, bidding Seth good night, and promising to see him first thing in the morning, he turned that way. "Why, Harben!" he said. "I'm sorry to see you here. What is it?" "Nothing. I'm sick--very sick. Who is that they've put there?" asked Ralph, in a low eager whisper. "That? Why, it's Seth Rimmer--young Seth, you know, from down along." "He's a dangerous man that, Jim. Put him somewhere else! Take him away!" "Nonsense, old man. Seth's as true as they make 'em. Besides, he's lost a leg. And anyway I couldn't ask them to move him now. There's no room anywhere else." "He's dangerous, I tell you," said Harben, with a shiver. "He thinks . . . he thinks . . . but I haven't, Jim. I swear I haven't. I'd nothing to do with it. I swear I hadn't."