a couple of hours later i went down the street with feet that felt so light that they seemed to barely touch the ground.

i had had a long talk with miss waters and the poor woman with whom she had been staying, and the former had promised me something.

i was glad to get out of the squalid little tenement parlour, for a man who is used to the fresh air of the sea is always uncomfortable in a close little room. it’s different from a fo’castle. i remember that i stopped once and started to dance a hornpipe on a dark corner nearly opposite the shipping-office. then, fearing that some one would see me and think me drunk, which i was not, i ceased and looked quickly up and down the street.

the light in the office was still burning{295} as brightly as when i passed there a few hours earlier.

i went along the pavement on the opposite side of the street until i stood directly in front of the building. suddenly the door opened and a moment afterward the light went out. then a figure came slowly down the front steps and looked hard at me.

it was brown, but his face was so distorted with some mental disturbance that i barely recognized him.

he appeared to be suffering keenly, for his cheeks were pale and drawn, and the lines about his mouth showed plainly in the light of the street-lamp.

i had never seen him look so upset, even during the time he was serving with benson, and i hesitated about joining him.

he, however, did not give me a chance, for he did not even speak to me, but walked rapidly away and disappeared down the now deserted street.

i was too busy with my own thoughts to pay any more attention to the matter for the present, and i went on board the arrow{296} and turned in, thinking that he would be there when i awoke in the morning.

when i turned out he was not there, and a short time afterward i heard the news that mr. anderson was dead.

he had been found sitting at his desk in the office. the gas was turned on in the room and the doors and windows closed. when the janitor opened the place for business in the morning, he had been almost suffocated. as soon as he recovered sufficiently he called for help, and he and several others entered the room and dragged the unfortunate young man into the hall. they found that he had been dead for several hours.

that was all. i’ve never heard anything more definite about the matter. but i was satisfied that my friend brown was cleared.

alice waters and myself were married the next day.

as luck was with us, that very day the old clipper morning light came in, and, after a good deal of fuss and bother, i made a deal to get transferred to her.

williams, her skipper, was a friend of{297} mine, and he backed me in the effort to exchange to the point of resigning altogether. he owned enough shares in the vessel to finally settle the matter, and this gave me a couple of weeks longer on the beach and williams a chance to go to china, which was what he wanted.

brown suddenly changed his mind about sailing with us, and had his things put ashore. he never came near the morning light until just as the tug took our towline. then we suddenly found that garnett—as usual when about to start off soundings—had disappeared during the bustle of clearing to take a nip at a neighbouring gin-mill. o’toole, in a fighting temper, started after him.

the big irishman soon had him half-way down the dock before the old mate realized his undignified position. then he lashed out and struck o’toole a powerful blow, and the prospect became interesting. a crowd gathered, and this attracted the attention of a policeman, who forced his way to where the mates were struggling. with the help of a few bystanders he parted them, and then,{298} seizing garnett by the coat, he started to drag him off to the lockup, when brown appeared on the scene, pointing to me and saying something to the officer which checked him long enough for me to make a landing on the dock.

“who is he?” asked the policeman, as i made my way toward them.

“windjammer from the shade o’ night, that’s what i am,” panted the old mate, thickly.

“i mean his business?” snapped the officer.

“tending to other people’s, you brassbound soger,” and with that garnett made a rush that came near landing both overboard. but o’toole and i seized him and hustled him aboard ship, while brown explained matters and pacified the officer. he soon accomplished this, and then he came on board and shook hands with the mates, my wife, and myself while the lines were being cast off. the tug blew her whistle and the ship began to drift away from the dock, holding only by the taut headline to spring her clear.

brown wished us all manner of good luck{299} and sprang ashore. he stood a moment on the edge of the wharf, waved a farewell salute, and then disappeared in the crowd looking on. garnett stood staring after him as if he had seen a ghost. then he turned suddenly and bawled out:

“all clear forward! captain anderson.” and then he took out his little nickel-plated vial and sniffed hard at it for several moments.

“’tis th’ liquor in th’ baste yit,” grinned o’toole, who stood close to me. “he knows old ropesend’s son well enough, an’ a good bye he is. shall we go ahead, sir?”

“yes, let her go!” i bawled, and we were gone.

that is all. the voyage was the pleasantest that i can remember, and our run to ’frisco was made in 120 days.

when we returned, homeward bound, both mr. ropesend and brown were quietly at work in the office, and each of them gave me a hearty welcome. brown’s wife invited mine to stay with her while the ship was discharging, and they became fast friends.{300}

i often think of those early friendships we both cultivated, and as to those women, they were always together.

alice often tries to make me give up some of my “i’s” since then, saying that there wouldn’t be enough left to go around among the single mates if i didn’t. but i’m a man of habit, so, if there seems to be too many of them in my yarns, i can’t help it.