right, my brother; yes; you are right. Good night, and pleasant sleep."




CHAPTER II.


The next morning the sky was clear and the sea was much smoother. The
sun shone bright and warm; more people came on deck, rejoicing that they
could live in the vigor of the open rather than in their stuffy state
rooms. The two seasick elders thought it wiser to remain quietly in
their berths for another day, so Chester and Elder Malby had the day to
themselves. As the accident of the night before became known to the
passengers, it was the topic of conversation for some time.

That afternoon Chester and his companion found a cosy corner on deck
away from the cigar smoke, and had a long heart to heart talk. The fact
of the matter was that the young man found comfort in the society of his
older brother. For the first time in nearly two years Chester could pour
out his heart to sympathetic ears, and he found much joy in doing this.

"Yes," said Chester to a question, "I should like to tell you about
myself. When my story gets tiresome, call my attention to the porpoises,
or declare that you can see a whale."

"I promise," laughed the other.

"Well, to begin at the very beginning, I was born in a suburb of
Chicago, and lived in and near that city most of my life. My mother's