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"A good deal, if you care. Can we come in behind? I want to speak to you about my young friend here."
"To be sure," the clerk replied. "Step in. Now, what is it?" he asked. "I recognize your companion. He is the son of the late Mr. Marchant."
"Quite so; and he wishes to go abroad to America, to make his way in the world. Can you do anything for him in the way of a cheap passage?"
"He could go for nothing, or rather, could earn a pound and food besides the berth. But he'd have to rough it."
"I'm ready for that, any day; in fact, I'd like to start right away," Hal said, eagerly.
"Then I may as well tell you that there is a vacancy for a greaser aboard the Mohican . Will you take that? There! A passage, your grub, and a pound at the end of the trip."
"You can put my name down for it," said Hal. "I'll go on the Mohican ; and I thank you for your kindness."
"Not at all; it's nothing after the freights we got from your father's foundry. Good-day, sir; good-day, Tomkins. Excuse me, but I'm very busy." The clerk nodded in a friendly way, and departed.
"I put that down as a good omen," said Tomkins as they emerged into the street. "You're in luck, Hal, for right from the commencement you get what you want. The rest will come just the same, let us hope. Now I'll leave you, as I have matters to attend to."
He shook Hal's hand and walked up the street.
Hal returned to his rooms, and hunted out his belongings. It was getting dark as he went into the street with a bundle over his shoulder. He entered a shop which he had noticed on former occasions, wondering what class of people patronized it.
"How much for these?" he asked, opening his bundle, and displaying five suits which he had been in the habit of wearing in Birmingham.
"They're not much good to me," he said. "They're not the class o' togs I want. Six shillings the lot."
"Six shillings!" said Hal quietly. "They cost four times as many pounds, and that quite recently. Bid again."
"Six the figure. Not a penny more," exclaimed the man.
"I'll take four pounds for the lot," said Hal.
"You may, but not from me, young man. Good a'ternoon to yer."
"Good-day; I'll go elsewhere," said Hal quietly, and at once did up the fastenings of his bundle. Then he lifted it, and walked calmly out of the shop.
"Hold hard there!" cried the man, arresting him at the door. "Let's see the togs again." He inspected them closely; but it was merely a pretense, for anyone could see
with half an eye that they were really good. "I'll make it three ten," he said.
"Very well, you can have them," Hal replied, glad to get so good a price.
Next day he was told that the Mohican would sail on Saturday.
"She's one of the intermediate boats," said the clerk. "Of course, she carries very few passengers some thirty in all. You'd better be aboard on Friday, for she leaves the river early the following day. Good luck to you."
"And many thanks to you," Hal answered. "I'll do my best to fill the place you have obtained for me."
Hal took a cheap ticket to Liverpool, and trudged from the station to the dock in which the Mohican was lying.
Hal picked his way to the wide and slippery gangway, and began to cross it. A notice above an alleyway caught his eye. "Engineers only," it said.
He entered the alleyway, and walked along it till he came to a door on the left, where he knocked.
"Who's there? Come right in," someone cried in a sleepy voice.
Hal entered, and found a big man reclining full length on the settee. He was dressed in an old uniform, and had a handkerchief tied round his neck.
"Wall, what aer it?" he asked. "A feller can't no more get ter sleep upon this hulk than fly. Who aer yer?"
He sat up and surveyed Hal sleepily.
"I'm sorry I roused you. I'm the new hand the greaser," said Hal.
"Oh, you're the greaser! Wall, yer aint the sort as ships aboard the Mohican every time. What aer it? Rows with the boss? High jinks at home? Broke; aint that it?"
"Not quite, but nearly," Hal answered with a smile. "I'm working my passage."
"So; then you've come to right ship ter do it. But you'd better get to your quarters; there, along the alleyway. So long, young 'un, and when yer want a bit of a help, come along to me. I'm Old Yank, the boss of the engine-room."
Closing the door, Hal went along the alleyway till he came to a large cabin, above which was painted "Greasers." No one was in, but one of the bunks had evidently not been appropriated.
"That will do for me," thought Hal. "I'll put my bundle here, and then have a look round."
Five minutes later he descended the ladder which led to the depths of the ship. Beneath him was a maze of machinery. Down below were one or two figures moving about. A wave of hot air ascended, while a loud whir, caused by the revolving armature of the dynamo, filled the engine-room.
Hal felt somewhat out of his element; but, congratulating himself on the fact that he had some right to be where he was, he hastened down the ladder, and dropped to the floor.