"Going yachting, sir?" asked the shopkeeper, politely, as he carefully folded Alaric's discarded suit of fine clothing.
"No, indeed," replied the boy, scornfully. "I'm going to be a sailor on the sloop Fancy, and I wish you would send these things down to her at once."
Ere the man could recover from his astonishment at this request sufficiently to reply, Bonny interrupted hastily:
"Oh no, Rick! we'll take them with us. There isn't time to have 'em sent."
"I should guess not," remarked the shopkeeper, in a very different tone from the one he had used before. "But, say, young feller, if you're going to be a sailor you'll want a bag, and I've got a second-hand one here almost as good as new that I'll sell cheap. It come to me with a lot of truck from the sale of a confiscated sealer; and seeing that it's got another chap's name painted on it, I'll let you have it for one bob tuppence-ha'penny, and that'll make even money between us."
Thus saying, the man produced a stout canvas bag, such as a sailor uses in place of a trunk. The name plainly painted across it, in black letters, was "Philip Ryder"; but Alaric said he didn't mind that, so he took the bag, thrust his belongings, including his cherished baseball, into it, and the two boys left the shop.
"By-the-way," asked Alaric, hesitatingly, "don't I need to get some brushes and things?"
"What for!"
"Why, to brush my hair, and—"