"Boy," said Mrs. Stocker, "carry out the purser's orders. Execute that detestable brute of a dog, and I will never forget you." "All right, ma'am," answered Tommy. He put the dog under his arm, and going on deck, slung the rope over a yard, made a noose, and having put it round the dog's neck, hauled him up about two feet from the deck. Fido struggled and kicked, and his eyes were nearly starting from his head in all the agony of strangulation. Suddenly Miss Jones, followed by the captain, rushed upon the scene, wringing her hands and uttering piercing cries. "My dear, dear Fido! Save him! oh, save him!" she exclaimed, in piteous accents. The captain took out a claspknife and cut the rope; then he gave Tommy a box on the ear. Consequently Fido fell on the deck, very much resembling a dead dog, and his executioner tumbled in a heap on top of him. Miss Jones pulled him off, and taking up her dear dog, hugged it in her arms, being rewarded by a feeble wag of the tail. "He lives! yes, he breathes! I was in time!" she cried, tragically, "and my darling is saved!" The captain looked sternly at Tommy. "Who gave you authority to hang people's dogs?" he demanded. "Purser's orders, sir," answered Tommy. The purser chanced to come on deck, and was just about offering his arm to a lady who was taking a promenade, when the captain called him. "Why did you order this lady's dog to be killed, Mr. Kinsey?" he asked. "I, sir? I did nothing of the sort," replied the purser. "This boy says you did." "Yes, indeed, sir. Don't go back on me!" pleaded Tommy. "You said, 'Hang the dog!'" "But I didn't mean it that way, you fool! It was an exclamation of impatience. I had heard of this dog trouble, and didn't want to be mixed up in it." "Take the dog to the butcher, and let him mind him until the end of the voyage." "Yes, sir." "Madam, I am glad to have been of service to you," continued the captain, making a polite bow to Miss Jones and going on the bridge. Tommy took the dog to the butcher and received a severe talking to from the purser, who said: "Are you a fool, or are you putting on?" "Really, sir, I thought that you were in earnest." "Thought my eye! thought my grandmother!" replied the purser. "If I thought you were trying on any more larks with me, I'd tan your hide, my lad, and don't you forget it!" Tommy shrank away, somewhat abashed, wondering why people would say what they didn't mean. But he had made a friend of Mrs. Stocker, who in the end proved of great service to him. CHAPTER IX. THE SMUGGLER. The voyage was a quick one, and on the morning of the ninth day out they were in the River Mersey. Wild Charley spoke to him in the morning, and asked him what he intended to do. "I don't know, exactly," answered Tommy. "At first I was anxious to get home, but if I write a letter to mother, telling her I am safe and well, she will not be anxious about me, and now I am here I should like to see something of England."