CHAPTER TWO--THE FYNES AND THE GIRL-FRIEND.
We were on our feet in the room by then, and Marlow, brown and deliberate, approached the window where Mr.Powell and I had retired.
"What was the name of your chance again ?" he asked.

Mr.Powell stared for a moment.
"Oh! The _Ferndale_.

A Liverpool ship.

Composite built." "_Ferndale_," repeated Marlow thoughtfully.

"_Ferndale_." "Know her ?" "Our friend," I said, "knows something of every ship.