When Captain Seagrave appeared on deck next morning the first person he encountered was the chief officer.  
Sam Slack looked decidedly seedy; there was an up-all-night and commenced-afresh-in-the-morning appearance about him. He lurched forward and saluted¹ the skipper. "That was a fine tip, captain, a grand tip; I backed it, so did most of the men."
 
"When I came aboard last night I found the cabin boy in charge. Do you consider that the proper way in which to leave a ship?"
 
"The circumstances were exceptional; we made a night of it."
 
"Where's Mac?"
 
Sam Slack smiled as he replied—
 
"When I left him last night he was taking in sufficient Scotch² to last him for a voyage; he'll turn up all right to-day, and we can do without him. I hope you had a good win."
 
Captain Seagrave was in a good humour. The seventy pounds he had won was safely locked up in his chest.
 
"I did all right, Sam. By Jove, young Redland can ride; it was a clinking race. I was in a deuce of a funk at one time, thought my money was gone, but he pulled through all right at the finish. I'll tell you what, Sam, we'll get in a few delicacies³ for the voyage. You'll go your share, I am sure."
 
"Certainly, but I only had five pounds on, and won twenty."
 
"A whole fiver! Where did it come from?"
 
"The office. I bled them; got a bit on account. It was like drawing a back tooth, but I managed it."
 
The skipper looked at him admiringly. He knew Sharp and Co. were not given to ostentatious displays of liberality.
 
"You are cleverer than I thought you were. How did you manage it?"
 
"Gave them your tip."
 
"You told Sharp I was backing Topsy Turvy?"
 
"I did. Moreover, I said you had persuaded Mac to follow your lead, and Sharp said if Mac thought it was worth a bit, he'd have a trifle on himself; and he did."
 
"Then Sharp ought to send us a couple of cases of whisky aboard. I'll ask him about it," said the skipper.
 
Later on in the day the chief engineer put in an appearance, and staggered into Captain Seagrave's cabin.
 
"Oh, it's you, is it, Mac?"
 
"Yes, it's me—what's left of me. You'll ruin the ship, Captain. It's not fair to the men; it's demoralising. I hope next time you get a tip you'll keep it to yourself."
 
"That's ungrateful. How much did you win?"
 
"Only a tenner. I had not sufficient faith in you to put on more than a couple of sovs."
 
Job Seagrave laughed. He got on very well with his officers and crew. They really liked the "old man" because he invariably stood by them, no matter what trouble they got into, or whether they were right or wrong.
 
A clerk from the shipping⁴ office came to the door of the cabin, and handed the captain a note. It advised him that the "Golden Land" must sail as soon as possible after the remainder of the cargo⁵, which was to be delivered that day, was got on board.
 
"All serene," said Job. "But what about my passengers? They don't expect her to get away before next week."
 
"Then you'll have to hurry them up."
 
"How the deuce am I to find them?"
 
"That's not my business; you have your orders," said the clerk impudently⁶. The office hands did not like the skipper; he was one too many for them.
 
"Are you running the ship, or am I?" roared Job.
 
"You have the honour to command the old tub, I believe."
 
"Then you clear out of it as soon as possible, or you'll travel down the gangway faster than you came. You shrivelled up young leek⁷, how dare you cheek me!"
 
The clerk disappeared. He had experienced what the captain's temper was like before, and did not relish⁸ a repetition.
 
"The atmosphere feels cleaner now he's gone," growled⁹ Mac.
 
"We'll sail when we think proper, Mr. Macdonald, and I'm d——d if I am going without my passengers, Sharp or no Sharp."
 
Mar¹⁰ chuckled¹¹. He gloried in defying "the powers that be" ashore¹².
 
"Tell him we are short of coal. Inform Mr. Sharp that there is not sufficient grease on board to make a slide on the cabin floor, let alone to oil the engines. That ought to settle him."
 
"Mac," said the skipper, "we are going to have a decent trip. I am about to provision this ship in a lordly style. Will you stand in, it will be worth it?"
 
The chief engineer looked dubious¹³.
 
"I had a very small win," he said. "But I'll lay in some of my special, and you're welcome to a share."
 
"Where's the crew?" asked Job, as he went on deck.
 
"Half in and half out. They keep turning up in small quantities; the bosun's just arrived in a hansom," laughed Slack.
 
"He's a credit to the ship. When the bosun can drive about in a hansom, there's no reason why the skipper should not have a carriage and pair."
 
"None at all; I'd like to see you in it, you'd fill it well," replied the chief officer with a smile.
 
"Stow your chaff¹⁴; I'm going to board Sharp in the office. Mind you, I have forgiven you lubbers for deserting the ship last night, but don't let it occur again, or there'll be a concert on board."
 
"And very little harmony."
 
"That is so, Sam; you have a keen intelligence," replied Job.
 
He drove to the office of Sharp and Co. in a hansom, and entered the premises¹⁵ with a defiant¹⁶ air. The clerk who presented the letter on board, saw him, and fled to the rear of the building.
 
Abe Sharp was in his office, and as the skipper entered he asked him to be seated.
 
"Haven't time," said Job. "We're under sailing orders. Steam up, and we move out in two hours. Are the papers ready?"
 
Sharp knew his man. "You received my letter?" he asked.
 
"I did. That's the reason the funnel¹⁷ is already belching¹⁸ forth¹⁹ smoke. We're quick on the 'Golden Land,' a darned sight smarter than you are in this office."
 
"I am afraid your temper is ruffled," said Sharp.
 
"And so would yours be if a tadpole²⁰ addressed you with the authority of a whale."
 
"Who is the tadpole?"
 
Job Seagrave named the offending clerk.
 
"He shall be reprimanded," said Sharp.
 
"Much good that will do him. Sack him."
 
"He's useful."
 
"Then I'm sorry for you. We have no use for things like that on the 'Golden Land.' Are the papers ready?"
 
"No, of course not."
 
"Then what the —— is the use of dragging me up here in a hurry."
 
"You are too sudden, captain. I hope you don't drive the 'Golden Land' at this rate."
 
Job Seagrave smiled as he replied—
 
"I'll tell you something in confidence, Mr. Sharp. I have made my will, and left a written confession²¹ behind me in safe hands. If the 'Golden Land' is submerged this trip you'll hear about it."
 
"She is perfectly²² seaworthy, and although an old boat, is by no means a bad one."
 
"Have you ever travelled in her?" asked the skipper.
 
"No, oh dear no!"
 
"Then try a voyage in her this time. There'll be room in the firm for another partner in a few weeks."
 
Abe Sharp laughed as he replied—
 
"You are in a joking humour this morning. I suppose it is the result of your good luck yesterday?"
 
"And what may you be pleased to call my good luck?"
 
"Sam Slack called here, and said you had gone to Lewes to back a horse."
 
"Did he now? That's kind of him, giving me away like that," said Job.
 
"It's no concern of mine, of course," said Sharp, "but I advise you to stick to your ship and leave horses alone."
 
"What are you going to put aboard out of your winnings?" asked Job.
 
"My winnings, what do you mean?" asked the astonished Sharp.
 
"You backed my tip, and it came off. I think we deserve a few odds²³ and ends in the way of luxuries after that. As a rule, mind you, I say as a rule—this voyage may prove an exception—the 'Golden Land' is not exactly a floating Hotel Cecil. Perhaps you'll assist us in the cookery department, and I may say that the wine cellar is disgracefully under-stocked."
 
Abe Sharp laughed again. He, too, was in a good humour.
 
"I confess I had a trifle on that horse Slack named. Only a trifle, mind you. I'll see what can be done for you; but if steam is up, and you sail in two hours, I fear it will be impossible for me to accede²⁴ to your request."
 
"Steam can be let off," said Job.
 
"What do you require on board?" asked Sharp.
 
"Most things; you can't go wrong whatever you send aboard, unless it be salt," said Job.
 
"You have never complained before about the provisions."
 
"Your memory is failing. I made one complaint five years ago, and said I'd let it stand good so that I need not be at the trouble of repeating myself."
 
"I understand; and let me tell you, Captain Seagrave, we are perfectly satisfied with you. Our firm never forgets the men who serve us well."
 
"I have been in your employ about twenty years," replied Job, "and if you have not forgotten me, I cannot say you have remembered me."
 
"You have had your salary raised," said Sharp.
 
"That has not hurt me. The rise was imperceptible."
 
"Really, I think you deserve some consideration. I'll mention the matter to the Board."
 
"We shall be half way to Australia then."
 
Abe Sharp was amused. He knew very well Captain Seagrave was underpaid; but he could do very little for him on his own initiative.
 
"You must sail as soon as possible. When can you leave?" he asked.
 
"When I get my two passengers on board. I have to find them first."
 
"That's awkward; but have you no idea where they are?"
 
"The young fellow who rode Topsy Turvy yesterday I can lay hands on pretty quick, and no doubt he'll find his chum."
 
Sharp was interested.
 
"Is Jack²⁵ Redland going out with you?"
 
"Yes; I thought you knew."
 
"I was not in the office when he came with Marton. His father was a well known man in the city."
 
"Was he? Then the son does not take after him. He's a gentleman," said Job, who hated the city and the men in it.
 
Abe Sharp winced²⁶. He said sharply—
 
"I am busy now, Captain Seagrave; but I'll see about sending down to the ship."
 
"And when must we sail?"
 
"I'll have the papers ready for you to-morrow."
 
"Very well, I may not see you again. I always feel like that when I leave London in the 'Golden Land,'" said Job, with which parting shot he stalked out of the office.
 
He sent a telegram to Jack Redland to Brighton, and received a reply to the effect that he would be on board the next day.
 
"That's business," said Job as he read it.
 
He did not leave the ship again, and the following morning the chief officer put his head in at the door of his cabin and said—
 
"It's come, sir."
 
"What's come?" asked Job.
 
"The consignment²⁷ from the office."
 
"Good lord, you don't say so. What is it?"
 
"Cases. Tinned stuff and bottled stuff."
 
Captain Seagrave went out to inspect.
 
Piled up on the deck were over a dozen cases, and his practised eye saw at a glance they were of the right sort.
 
"Any message with them?"
 
"None, except that they were sent with Mr. Sharp's compliments to Captain Seagrave. How did you work it?" asked Slack.
 
"I gave him a pretty lively half hour. I reckon he'll not be sorry when we are at sea. I told him I had made my will, and left a written statement behind as to the state of the 'Golden Land.'"
 
Sam Slack laughed heartily²⁸.
 
"How did he take it?" he asked.
 
"Solemnly, he didn't care for the medicine."
 
"And I got a fiver out of him. Skipper, something's going to happen. Sharp's been converted."
 
"Perhaps he has; but he'll be no credit to the sect²⁹ he patronises. They'll have to lock up the collection boxes pretty quick."
 
The chief engineer walked solemnly round the cases as he saw them on deck.
 
"Where are these from?"
 
"The office."
 
"Is it rat poison?"
 
"No, it's a present from Sharp to the skipper."
 
Mac sat down; the blow was too much for him.
 
"A present from the office?" he said slowly. "You're certain it's not explosives?"
 
"She'll go down soon enough without any assistance of that kind," said the chief officer.
 
"Does he know about it?" and he pointed³⁰ towards the captain's cabin.
 
"Oh, yes; he worked the oracle³¹ yesterday."
 
"He actually pumped some of the milk of human kindness into Sharp's wretched body?"
 
"That is so."
 
"Then I'll go and shake hands with him," said Mac, and went to the cabin. He stood looking at the skipper solemnly, and Job said—
 
"What is it, Mac?"
 
"I want to shake hands with you, captain. I'll consider it an honour."
 
The skipper held out his hand, wondering what it was all about.
 
"I congratulate you," said Mac. "I did not think any man breathing could have done it."
 
"Done what?" asked Job.
 
"Tapped Sharp," said Mac, as he walked quietly away, and Job Seagrave roared with laughter.

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