pany him on the trip, but the tall down-easter declined. "This jest suits me to death, Larry," he said. "I wouldn't miss a day of it for a fortune. Don't you forget to come back; I'll be a-watchin' for you." And an affectionate parting followed, for both had grown to think a great deal of each other.
The trip on the McCulloch to Hong Kong occupied several days, but with nothing happening out of the ordinary. As the stanch despatch boat came in sight of the numerous shipping at the Chinese-English port, Larry kept his eyes wide open for a possible sight of the Columbia. He had just about given up hope, when he caught a glimpse of a hull which looked strangely familiar.
"Will you lend me your glass for just a moment?" he asked of a news correspondent standing by. "I think that's my ship over to our port."
The glasses were cheerfully loaned, and one look convinced Larry that he was right. There was the Columbia, somewhat battered around the bow and with her foremast still missing, and there, yes, there were Captain Ponsberry and Tom Grandon on her deck!
"Columbia, ahoy!" he yelled at the top of his
