BY
J. O. DAVIDSON.
CHAPTER I.
THE FIRST NIGHT AT SEA.
P.M. steam-ship Arizona sails this day at 4.30 p.m. for China and the East, viâ Suez Canal. Freight received until 4 p.m. Hands wanted.
"I guess that's what I want," muttered a boy, who was comparing the printed slip in his hand with the above notice, conspicuously displayed from the yard of a huge ocean steamer alongside one of the North River piers at New York.
Not a very heroic figure, certainly, this young volunteer in the battle of life: tired, seemingly, by the way in which he dragged his feet; cold, evidently, for he shivered every now and then, well wrapped up as he was; hungry, probably, for he had looked very wistfully around him as he passed through the busy, well-lighted market, where many a merry group were laughing and joking over their purchase of the morrow's Christmas dinner. But with all this, there was something in his firm mouth and clear bright eye which showed that, as the Western farmer said, on seeing Washington's portrait, "You wouldn't git that man to leave 'fore he's ready."
Picking up the bag and bundle which he had laid down for a moment, our hero entered the wharf house.
"Clear the way there!"
"Look out ahead!"