A BROKEN HAWSER
eleven miles an hour, with a slight reserve of speed in hand in case of an emergency.
From Sydney she had a run of nearly two thousand miles before reaching the neighborhood of Fiji, and then began the part of the journey which interested Dave most. From one wondrous beauty-spot to another they went, sometimes lying at anchor off an island and sending a dory ashore to do the trading, and sometimes poking their nose so close to the land that it was possible to tie up against a tree. In some places a white man had established himself and did a thriving, if lonely, business by accumulating copra and other native products and driving a hard bargain with Captain Peters. One man in particular Dave remembered. He had built a wooden bungalow facing the sea, and the chief article of furniture it contained was a wheezy old harmonium on which its owner played comic songs, ten years old, extremely badly. In response to a pressing invitation Captain Peters and some of the men, includ-
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