The captain sent a deck-hand for Dick, and the boy appeared on deck in overalls and jumper, cap in hand.

“Dick,” said the captain, “this gentleman has put your name on the passenger list.  The purser will give you a room and a seat at the table.”

“Oh, Captain, please don’t take me from my work.  I know I’ve got to leave it if you say so, but—­”

“No, you haven’t,” interrupted the captain; “you are on the pay-roll and can hang on to your job as long as you do your work.”

Dick’s face was still troubled as he turned toward Molly and her father, meeting a reproachful look from the girl, which made him wonder if he had seemed ungrateful for the kindness shown him, and said: 

“I want to thank you a thousand times for your kindness and I will come to the cabin if you think I—­Have you any boy of your own, sir?”

“Yes, I have a boy of about your age.”

“If he were here, in my place, what would you like to have him do?”

“I’d be proud of him if he did just what you’re doing, my boy.”

Tears were in Dick’s voice as he said: 

“Thank you very much, sir,” then, turning to Molly, a roguish smile lit up his face as he bowed to her, saying: 

“Thank you again, Miss Brown-Eyes.”

The next day when Dick was off duty, instead of going to his bunk, he dressed himself carefully and went up on the promenade deck.  It was quite contrary to the rules, but the officers only smiled and looked away, while many of the passengers spoke to him, for the story of his having refused cabin passage was pretty well known on the boat.  He walked about restlessly, as if in search of something or somebody, until he caught sight of a girl in the extreme bow of the boat, looking down upon the water twenty feet below her.  Dick suddenly discovered that he wanted to look over the bow, too.  A minute later he was leaning on the rail behind the girl, looking down upon a school of porpoises, or herring hogs, which were playing about the boat.  A jet of water and spray curled upward from the cutwater of the steamer, which was running at high speed, but the graceful little creatures kept abreast of her without apparent effort.  There were twenty or thirty of them, gliding in and out as gracefully as if they were moving to the measure of a waltz.  Sometimes one touched the prow or side of the boat; usually they kept pace with the steamer as evenly as if they were a part of it; but occasionally one darted ahead at a speed which left the boat behind as if it were standing still.  At last the girl, long conscious that some one was standing beside her, putting out her hand to that somebody, said: 

“Aren’t they dears?  Oh!” she added, as her hand was taken and she looked around, “I thought it was Daddy.  Please excuse me.”

Dick looked as if he might be persuaded to forgive her, and for some minutes they stood in silence, leaning over the rail and looking at the playful porpoises beneath them, when he said: