Well, they spent some jolly hours together, and as long as the Newt was in the harbour, they managed to see each other every evening.
But one day, soon after the street adventure, a gentleman called and asked to see Kep. He was the same who had collected the coin for the boy that day on which he had played on the street.
Very straight and business-like was this Mr. Howe, and concluded the interview in a few minutes.
"Wanted to know if you can manage to come to my house at seven, and play a bit to my wife and me."
Kep told him he would be very pleased indeed to do so.
"Here is my card then."
And this is what came of it. Kep was engaged at one of the best music halls in the city, to play solos, and not only this, but to tell in his own simple language, the terribly tragic story of the ship Macbeth, at a salary of three pounds a week.
Few believed the terrible tale. People seldom will believe what is true; but flowing so winningly and well from the lips of the handsome dark-eyed sailor boy, it was a bait.
Kep cleaned no more knives nor boots.
But his music hall career came to a conclusion almost as suddenly as it had commenced. Anyhow, his old pal, Jack Stormalong, had brought him good luck, and things looked brighter now, for he had a letter from his sister, and the Breezy came in.