together, impressed with the terrible powers of the law as thus presented to their view and the extent of the Captain’s authority. “He really did not mean any harm, poor fellow, I am sure he didn’t!”

“Then what did he do it for?” asked the old gentleman snappishly, though both could see, from the merry twinkle in his eyes, that he was not in such a bad temper as he pretended to be. “What did he do it for? That’s what I’d like to know!”

But, even the stranger lad, who had so unceremoniously intruded into the carriage, seemed to become aware as he confronted him that the Captain’s ‘bark was worse than his bite’; for, dropping his snivel and looking his questioner manfully in the face, he at once went on to tell who he was and explain the reasons for his unexpected appearance on the scene—his earnest accents and honest outspokenness testifying to the truth of his statement in the opinion, not only of Bob and Nellie, but of the whilom grumpy old Captain as well.

The lad said that his name was Dick Allsop and that he belonged to Guildford, the last station the train had passed, and the only one at which it had stopped since leaving Waterloo. His father had died some years before, but his mother had lately got married again to a regular brute of a man, who behaved very badly to her and treated Dick, he averred, so cruelly, that he could not stand it any longer. That very morning, Dick stated; he had beaten him so unmercifully that he had suddenly determined to run away to sea; and this was the reason why he wanted to get to Portsmouth.

“But, you might have entered the carriage like a Christian!” interposed the Captain at this point of the lad’s story. “The train stopped long enough at Guildford for you to get in through the doorway, like any ordinary passenger, surely?”

“No, sir, I couldn’t,” answered the other. “I couldn’t a-done it.”

“But why not?”

“Because, sir,” snivelled the lad, “I didn’t have no money, sir.”

“Humph! you had no money, eh?”

“No, sir; nothing but thrippence-a’penny, which mother gave me afore I started, when she wished me good-bye. She was sorry as how she could give me nothing more; and so I couldn’t pay the fare, and had no ticket.”

“So, my joker, you got on the train without one at all!” said the Captain, interrupting him. “Do you know that was really cheating the railway company?”

“I knows it, sir,” replied Dick Allsop, who had better now be called by his own proper name, looking down as if ashamed of what he had done. “I knows it’s wrong; but, sir, I couldn’t help it, as there was no other way I seed of getting to Porchmouth.”

“But, why didn’t you jump into the carriage like a Christian, as I said just now?” observed the Captain. “Eh?”

Dick seemed amused by this question.

“Does yer think, sir, the porters would ha’ let me if they’d seed me a-trying it on?” said he, with a radiant grin that lit up his face, quite changing its expression. “Not if they, knowed it!”

“Perhaps not,” agreed the Captain, nonplussed by the lad’s logic and knowledge of human nature. “No, I don’t think they would.”

“No, sir; that they wouldn’t,” exclaimed the runaway triumphantly, as if he knew all about that matter at any rate. “So, sir, I waits down by the side o’ the line, where I lays hid, sir, without nobody a-seeing me; and then, jist as the train was started and quite clear o’ the station, a-going into the tunnel as ain’t fur off, as yer know, sir—?”

“Yes, I know the line, my lad,” said Captain Dresser. “I ought to!”

“Well, sir, there I climbs on by the buffers and coupling-chain of the guard’s van to the step of the end carriage, and works myself along till I reaches this; when, drawing myself up and looking in through the windy, I thought I would get in here, not seeing nobody but young ma–aster and little missis in the corner—”

“You didn’t see me, eh?” questioned the Captain, with one of his quizzical chuckles. “You didn’t see me, I’ll wager.”

“No, sir, or I wouldn’t have tried it on,” confessed Dick, with the most open candour. “I would a-been afeard like.”

“Lucky for you that you did, though,” said Captain Dresser, his little black beady eyes blinking away furiously. “If you had got in anywhere and not come across such a good-natured old donkey as myself, you would have had the signal-bell rung to summon the guard, who would have stopped the train and given you in custody at the next station for travelling without a ticket! But what are you going to do now, eh?”

“Please, sir, I dunno,” replied Dick, looking puzzled.

“Humph, that’s a pretty state of things for an independent young gentleman running away to sea!” said the Captain in a quizzing tone. “Do you know you’re not half out of the scrape yet? You have got into the train all right; but, how are you going to get out of it, eh—tell me that, my lad?”

“I dunno, sir,” again answered Dick laconically, still seeming unmoved by the critical nature of his position—“I dunno, sir.”

“Drat the boy!” exclaimed the Captain impatiently, stamping his foot. “There you are again with your ‘dunno!’ Why, when we arrive at Portsmouth, the collector will be asking for your ticket; what will you say then, eh?”

“I thought, sir, of jumping out afore the train got there, sir,” said Dick, scratching his head reflectively. “Aye, I did.”

“Broke your neck, probably!” growled the old Captain. “The best thing that could have happened to you, my lad.”

Bob and Nellie meanwhile had been whispering together and comparing notes apparently as to the state of their respective funds; for, Nellie had extracted a little leather purse from some hidden receptacle in her dress, while Bob was feeling in his pockets. Before either could speak, however, Captain Dresser anticipated their evident intention.

“Suppose now I paid your fare for you?” he went on, addressing Dick. “What would you say to that, eh?”

“Lor’, sir, I’d be orful grateful, that I’d be, sir—I would indeed, sir,” eagerly replied the lad in an outburst of thankfulness; “and if, sir, I could work it out in any way so as to repay the money, I’d be that glad yer wouldn’t know me.”

“Humph!” grunted the Captain again. “We’ll see about that.”

Bob and Nellie, both of whom had been listening with intense interest to Dick’s cross-examination, were quite carried away with enthusiasm at this happy termination of the animated discussion that had gone on.

“Oh, you dear Captain,” cried Nellie, hugging the old sailor rapturously. “You’ve just done what Bob and I wished.”

“Have I?” said he smiling. “I don’t see it, I’m sure.”

“Yes, you have, you have,” she replied impulsively. “Bob and I were just going to offer the same thing when you took the words out of our mouth.”

“And the money out of my pocket, eh?” slyly added the Captain with a chuckle—“eh, missy?”

“But we’d like to pay too,” said Bob. “Let us go shares, sir.”

“Not a bit of it,” retorted the other, blinking away as he always appeared to do when excited. “That was only my joke. I will pay his fare for him when we get to Portsmouth; for, I like the pluck of the lad in climbing on to the train like that, and not being daunted by obstacles in carrying out a planned purpose. Can’t say much for his looks though. He seems to me half-starved.”

The latter observation was uttered in an undertone, the Captain having too much delicacy to comment on Dick’s appearance in his hearing. Miss Nellie, however, acted instantly on the suggestion, which gave it a practical turn.

“Are you hungry, poor boy,” she asked Dick—“very hungry?”

“No, miss,” he answered humbly; “not pertick’ler, I