'Row on a Chinese pig-boat,' said he, sententiously, showing them one after another.--'Chief mate dirked by a comprador .-- Junk ashore off Hakodate .-- Somali muleteer being flogged .-- Star-shelled bursting over camp at Berbera .-- Slave-dhow being chased round Tajurrah Bah .-- Soldier lying dead in the moonlight outside Suakin .-- throat cut by Fuzzies.' 'H'm!' said Torpenhow, 'can't say I care for Verestchagin-and-water myself, but there's no accounting for tastes.

Doing anything now, are you ?' 'No.

I'm amusing myself here.' Torpenhow looked at the sketches again, and nodded.

'Yes, you're right to take your first chance when you can get it.' He rode away swiftly through the Gate of the Two War-Ships, rattled across the causeway into the town, and wired to his syndicate, 'Got man here, picture-work.

Good and cheap.