During those five days the boy's future was a sore problem for the Foreman Shunter and his wife. And it was only solved at last by a god out of a machine. Mr. Elijah Hendren was the deity in question.
That gentleman happened to look in upon the evening of the fatal fifth day. A benign, cultivated man of the world, he came regularly once a week to engage the Foreman Shunter in a game of draughts. It was also Mr. Hendren's custom on these occasions to smoke a pipe of bacca and to give expression to his views upon things in general, of which from early youth he had been an accomplished critic.
Mr. Hendren, it seemed, had a relation by marriage who followed the sea. He was a rough sort of man, in Mr. Hendren's opinion not exactly what you might call polished. Still, he followed a rough sort of trade, and this was a rough sort of boy, and Mr. Hendren didn't mind having a word with Alec—the name of the relation—and see what could be done in the matter.
"I don't know about that," said Mother. "They might ill-use him, and he's been ill-used more than enough already."
"Quite so," said Mr. Hendren politely, "huffing" the Foreman Shunter. "Quite so, M'ria"—Mr. Hendren was a very old friend of the family—"I quite agree with you there. The sea's a rough trade—rough an' no mistake—Alec can tell you tales that would make your hair rise—but as I say, he's a rough boy—and even the 'igh seas is better than the Work'us."
"Anything is better than that," said Mother. "All the same, I wouldn't like the poor child to be knocked about. You see, he's not very strong; he wants building up, and he's been used that crool by somebody that he's frit of his own shadow."
"Ah," said Mr. Hendren impressively. Impressiveness was Mr. Hendren's long suit. At that time, he was perhaps the most impressive man under sixty in Kentish Town. "Ah," said Mr. Hendren, "I quite understand, M'ria. I'll speak to Alec the first thing tomorrer and see what he can do. Not to be knocked about—but the sea's the sea, you quite understand?"
"My great-uncle Dexter sailed twelve times round the Horn," said Mother with modesty.
"Did he so?" said Mr. Hendren. "Twelve times. Before the mast?"
"Before the mast?" was a little too much for Mother, as Mr. Hendren intended it to be, having no doubt a reputation to keep up.