“I dare say you’ve seen a lot of strange things in the South Seas,” said Dave Hallard, a bit wistfully. “Aye, there’s queer sights in them latitudes,” agreed the old sailor, pausing in his task of slapping paint on the side of the ship and gazing thoughtfully across the sunlit harbor. “Lots an’ lots of ’em,” he added after a moment as, lighting his pipe again, he went on with his work. “I suppose you’ve never been to sea, have you?” he asked, casting a sidelong glance at the boy who for the last half-hour had been perched on the string-piece of the wharf, his legs dangling above the oily water.…
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