He stood watching attentively as the skipper tore up form after form, meditatively sucking the chained lead pencil with a view to inspiration between whiles. Captain Gething, as an illiterate, had every sympathy with one involved in the throes of writing, and for some time watched his efforts in respectful silence. After the fifth form had rolled a little crumpled ball on to the floor, however, he interposed. “I can’t think how to put it,” said the skipper apologetically. “I don’t want to be too sudden, you know.” “Just so,” said the other, and stood watching him until, with a smile of triumph twitching the corners of his mouth, the skipper bent down and hastily scrawled off a message. “You’ve done it?” he said with relief. “How does this strike you?” asked the skipper reading. “Your father sends love to you both.” “Beautiful,” murmured Captain Gething. “Not too sudden,” said the skipper; “it doesn’t say I’ve found you, or anything of that sort; only hints at it. I’m proud of it.” “You ought to be,” said Captain Gething, who was in the mood to be pleased with anything. “Lord, how pleased they’ll be, poor dears! I’m ashamed to face ’em.” “Stuff!” said the skipper, who was in high spirits, as he clapped him on the back. “What you want is a good stiff drink.” He led him into a neighboring bar, and a little later the crew of the schooner, who had been casting anxious and curious glances up the quay, saw the couple approaching them. Both captains were smoking big cigars in honor of the occasion, and Captain Gething, before going on board, halted, and in warm terms noticed the appearance of the _Seamew_. The crew, pausing in their labors, looked on expectantly as they reached the deck. On the cook’s face was a benevolent and proprietary smile, while Henry concealed his anguish of soul under an appearance of stoic calm. “This is the man,” said the skipper, putting his hand on the cook’s shoulder, “this is the man that found you, cap’n. Smartest and best chap I ever had sail with me!” Flushed with these praises, but feeling that he fully deserved them, the cook took the hand which Captain Gething, after a short struggle with the traditions of ship masters, extended, and shook it vigorously. Having once started, he shook hands all round, winding up with the reluctant Henry. “Why, I’ve seen this boy before,” he said, starting. “Had a chat with him yesterday. That’s what brought me down here to-day, to see whether I couldn’t find him again.” “Well I’m hanged!” said the astonished skipper. “He’s as sharp as needles as a rule. What were you doing with your eyes, Henry?”