"Before I agreed to come he said I could keep Tip with me," replied Tim, wondering at the question.
"Then he'll forget he ever said so; and if you think anything of the dog, you'd better leave him on shore."
"But I can't," cried Tim, piteously, his eyes filling with tears. "Tip's the only relation I've got, and there's no place where he could go."
Tim's distress touched the man's heart evidently, for he said, after a moment's thought: "Then you must find some place on board where the captain won't be likely to see him, for he would throw him overboard in a minute if he took the notion. Come with me."
The steward led the way to the bows of the boat, where the freight was stored, and after looking about some time, pointed out a little space formed by some water barrels.
"You'd better tie him in there for a while, and then if you are going to stay very long on the boat, give him away."
"But the captain said I might keep him with me," cried Tim, fearing to leave Tip in so desolate a place.
"Well"—and now the steward began to grow impatient—"you can try keeping him with you if you want to run the risk, but I promise you the captain will make quick work of him if he sees him."
Tim hesitated a moment, and then stooping down, he kissed Tip on the nose, whispering to him, "I wouldn't leave you here if I could help it, Tip; but be a good dog, and we'll have it fixed somehow pretty soon."
Tip licked his master's face in reply, but did not appear to understand the command to be a good dog; for when the rope was put around his neck he began to howl dolefully, and his cries went straight to Tim's heart, inflicting as much pain as a blow on his flesh.