"Very tidy," he commented; "but how does the owner get into his stateroom? Through the galley? Oh, come; that won't do! This little shelf is exceedingly nifty," he added, after further inspection, "but, Pem, have you figured the head-room in that particular spot?" Jim did a little quick calculation on the edge of the paper. "I'm afraid he'd get a most horrible whack on the head from it every time he came in at the door, unless"—Jim shot a twinkling glance at his son—"the owner happened to be you. In which case there'd be head-room and to spare. But I'd not dare to come aboard!"
He stopped suddenly and, taking his pipe from between his lips, stared at a sheet which the cabin-plan had uncovered.
"What do I see?" he murmured in a mystified voice.
Garth grew suddenly rather red.
"You weren't meant to look at that," he said hastily. "I expect it's awful. But—could you guess what it is?"
He looked up at his father with a great longing, and Joan, watching his face, hoped that Jim would guess right.
"A square-rigged ship," Jim said presently;
