“Don’t you say a word, Mr. Harry,” said the ferryman. “You and I’ve been shipmates a good many times, and your folks have been more than kind to me. I’ll get the Princess back to her mooring for you. I’m mighty glad I was on hand, and you’ll do me a favor if you won’t say anything more about it.” Harry was feeling better, but his teeth chattered still as he stumbled along with Maisie to her own door. At home he told his mother quietly that he had had a ducking, saying nothing about the rescue, and went to bed, while she dosed him with hot drinks. He did not seem to recover as he should, and his mother sent for the family physician. He laughed at the escapade, and gave Harry medicines that brought him round all right in due time, though not feeling very active. But the next day the doctor took care to call on Mr. Desmond privately. “The boy is all right,” he said; “and the ducking isn’t going to hurt him any, but I want to warn you that though he is constitutionally sound, he seems lacking a bit in vitality. He is not very resilient; that is to say, things that some boys would throw off as a duck does water are likely to hurt him. Indoor life is bad for him. He’s the sort of chap that should be out in the open as much as possible for a few years. Don’t let him study too hard. Keep him sailing his boat and playing outdoor games while his constitution hardens.” A day or two afterward Harry came into the library and found his father with an open letter in his hand. “I’m ready to report for business, father,” said the boy, smiling. “How soon do you want me to begin at the office?” “Are you really anxious to begin?” asked his father. “Why, yes, father,” said Harry. “I know it will be a good deal of a grind, but it will be good for me, and I feel that I am big enough now to help when you need me.” “Did Maisie stand her ducking all right?” asked his father with a smile, suddenly changing the subject. “Why—yes, sir,” faltered Harry. “How did you know about it? I wasn’t going to tell anything about that part of it.” “Oh, I saw Mr. Adams yesterday and he was quite full of the story. He spoke very nicely about your share in it, and I am quite proud of you.” “Oh, sir,” said Harry, turning very red with pleasure at his father’s praise; “it wasn’t anything much, and anyway it was Mr. Griggs who pulled us both out. We would not have got out at all if it hadn’t been for him.” “Well,” said his father, “it was a very fortunate escape, and I’m glad it came out as it did. But I have two things that I wish to talk to you about, and it may be that we shall not need you in the office at all, but can use you to better advantage in another way. First, I want you to read this letter from Captain Nickerson, my old friend from Nantucket.” He handed Harry a letter written in a cramped but bold handwriting. It was as follows:— WHALING BARK BOWHEAD, HONOLULU, JANUARY 15, 189-.