“Hascombe,” said Percival, haughtily aware of all that that name stood for in the annals of southern England.

“Oh, you’re the fellow that got left!  Any kin to the Texas Hascombes?” asked the youth, drawing the razor over his upper lip as if there were real work for it to do.

“None whatever,” said Percival.  “I’ll trouble you for my sponge-bag.”

When Percival got down to breakfast he found that the enforced proximity of Mr. Andy Black was not to be confined to the state-room.  The plump, red-headed young man, with the complexion of a baby and a smile that impartially embraced the universe, was seated at his elbow.

“Who is the girl at the captain’s right?” he demanded eagerly as Percival took his seat.

“His daughter,” Percival said curtly, painfully aware of the amused glances that had followed his entrance.

“Some looker!” said Andy.  “I see my finish right now.”

The sight of it eventually pleased him, for he turned his back upon Percival, and became hilariously appreciative of the captain’s jokes, even contributing one or two of his own.  Before the meal was over he had informed the whole table that he was on his way to Hong-Kong in the interests of the Union Tobacco Company, that he had done business in every State in the Union, and that he had crossed the Pacific five times.

During the course of the day Percival visited the purser at regular intervals, demanding that his room-mate be removed.  But the purser was a sturdy Hamburger, and the very sight of a monocle affected his disposition.  Meanwhile Mr. Andy Black had made good use of his time.  At the end of twenty-four hours he had spoken to virtually everybody on board, including the gray-haired old missionary who passed cream-peppermints about the deck at a quarter to ten every morning.  He had played quoits with Elise Weston, punched the bag with the college boys, and taught Bobby Boynton to dance the tango.  So obnoxious was the sight of him to the Honorable Percival that he turned his chair to the wall and buried himself in “Guillim’s Display of Heraldry.”  He considered it as a personal affront on the part of Fate that just as he was beginning to find the voyage endurable this prancing young montebank should appear to spoil everything.

For the next two days he sternly avoided Bobby Boynton.  His somewhat pompous letter of apology to the captain, in which he set forth at length the various unforeseen accidents that had caused him to miss the steamer, was curtly and ungraciously received, and strained relations ensued.  Moreover, as he viewed the recent adventure in retrospect, he decided that he had been most negligent in observing those rules by which the conduct of an English gentleman should be regulated.  In condescending to be amused he had gone too far, and it was now incumbent upon him to nip in the bud any gossip that might have risen concerning his attentions to the daughter of that odious captain.