CHAPTER VI.
The Skipper looked quite two years older in the face, as he trudged along through the wood as fast as he could walk, thinking of what he was about to do, for it never once came into his young mind, that he was going to add to the pain his mother was already feeling; and with his mind quite made up, he went straight to the station, to find the boy clerk behind, waggling the handle of the telegraph.
"When's the next train ?" asked the Skipper.
"Where to ?" "Portsmouth," said the Skipper.
"Town or Harbour ?" "Where my father's ship is," said the Skipper.
"That's Harbour," said the boy clerk, grinning in recognition.

"Going after the Captain ?" The Skipper nodded.
"What class ?" "First," said the Skipper, at a venture.
"Two and four, single," said the clerk, picking out a ticket from the rack, and stamping it, by sticking it in a noisy nick, before the would-be traveller could speak.

When he could, it was with a bright shilling, given him at his father's last visit, a threepenny-piece, and twopence halfpenny, in his hand.
"Two and four," said the clerk again.
"I--I haven't enough." "Well, we don't give credit here," said the clerk, laughing.
"If you please, I'll pay the rest when I come back." "Hum!" said the clerk, "when are you coming back ?" "To-night." "Then you want a return ?" "Yes," said the Skipper, nodding.
"Well, I oughtn't to give you credit.

What are you going to Portsmouth for ?" The boy choked for a moment, and felt annoyed at the question.
"To say good-bye to my Papa before he goes.

I must go directly, or he will be gone." "But a return's ever so much more, squire." "I'll be sure and pay you when I come back." The clerk hesitated, but he knew that the young traveller lived at The Pool House, and that his father had gone by the mid-day train, so he said good-humouredly: "Look here; you'd better have a third return; that's two shillings, and you can pay me one, and give me the other to-morrow." "Yes, please," cried the Skipper eagerly.
"Here she comes too," said the clerk, and he took the first-class ticket, juggled another in the stamping-machine, and dabbed it down through the pigeon-hole.
"Oh, thank you," cried the Skipper, snatching it up, and rushing towards the door.
"Hi! you haven't paid," shouted the clerk, and the boy ran back, with his face scarlet, to place his bright shilling on the little bracket.
"That's your sort," said the clerk; "don't you forget you owe me another." But the Skipper did not hear him, being half-way to the door, and then, ran panting out on to the platform, just as the train glided in.
The porter knew him, clipped his ticket, and he, being the only passenger from the little station, opened the carriage door, gave it a third-class bang, which, as everyone knows, is three times as loud as a first-class bang, and the next minute, with Bob's heart beating hard like the throbbing of the engine, the eventful journey began.
There was only one other passenger in his compartment, and he was asleep, but his presence was quite comforting to Bob, for he was a sailor, who had placed his canvas bag in a corner for a pillow, and was snoring loudly, with his mouth open, and his hat had fallen on the floor.
The Skipper sat watching the man for a few minutes, as the train rattled along, and then, got softly down, picked up the hat, and placed it on the seat in front of the man, noticing as he did so, that it bore on the riband "H.M.S.