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He had searched neither for food or water as yet; content with the treasure God had given him, for the moment the material things of life were forgotten. And, indeed, if he had searched he would have found only half a sack of potatoes in the caboose, for the lazarette was awash, and the water in the scuttle-butt was stinking.

Emmeline, seeing what was in progress, crept up, Dick promising not to put the hat on her, and they all sat round the pile.

“Thim pair of brogues,” said the old man, holding a pair of old boots up for inspection like an auctioneer, “would fetch half a dollar any day in the wake in any sayport in the world. Put them beside you, Dick, and lay hold of this pair of britches by the ends of em’—stritch them.”

The trousers were stretched out, examined and approved of, and laid beside the boots.

“Here’s a tiliscope wid wan eye shut,” said Mr Button, examining the broken telescope and pulling it in and out like a concertina. “Stick it beside the brogues; it may come in handy for somethin’. Here’s a book”—tossing the nautical almanac to the boy. “Tell me what it says.”