And the three beachcombers, following his indication, saw

the figure of a man in pyjama trousers and a white jumper

approaching briskly from the town.

'Captain Tom is coming.'

'That's Tapena Tom, is it?' said the captain, pausing in his

music. 'I don't seem to place the brute.'

'We'd better cut,' said the clerk. "E's no good.,

'Well,' said the musician deliberately, 'one can't most generally

always tell. I'll try it on, I guess. Music has charms to soothe

the savage Tapena, boys. We might strike it rich; it might

amount to iced punch in the cabin.'

'Hiced punch? O my!' said the clerk. 'Give him something 'ot,

captain. "Way down the Swannee River"; try that.'

'No, sir! Looks Scotch,' said the captain; and he struck, for

his life, into 'Auld Lang Syne.'

Captain Tom continued to approach with the same business-like

alacrity; no change was to be perceived in his bearded face

as he came swinging up the plank: he did not even turn his eyes

on the performer.

'We twa hae paidled in the burn

Frae morning tide till dine,'

went the song.

Captain Tom had a parcel under his arm, which he laid on

the house roof, and then turning suddenly to the strangers:

'Here, you!' he bellowed, 'be off out of that!'

The clerk and Herrick stood not on the order of their going,

but fled incontinently by the plank. The performer, on the other

hand, flung down the instrument and rose to his full height

slowly.

'What's that you say?' he said. 'I've half a mind to give you a

lesson in civility.'

'You set up any more of your gab to me,' returned the Scotsman,

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