given a thought to it (being so worried with other matters) until
last night. He hadn't a notion, at this moment, what it was all
about. But anyhow that stuff about "want of pluck" was silly
nonsense,--almost too silly to vex a man. He would have gone fast
enough had he been able. In truth, Nicky-Nan's conscience had no
nerve to be stung by imputations of cowardliness. He had never
thought of himself as a plucky man--it wasn't worth while, and, for
that matter, _he_ wasn't worth while. He had, without considering
it, always found himself able to take risks alongside of the other
fellows. Moreover, what did he amount to, with his destinies, hopes,
and belongings all told, to be chary of losing them or himself?

But it was a fact, as the letter hinted, that some years ago, and for
two successive seasons, the Reservists' training happening to fall at
a time when fish was plentiful and all hands making money, he, with
one or two other men, had conspired with a knavish Chief Officer of
Coastguard to put a fraudulent trick on the Government. It was the
Chief Officer who actually played the trick, entering them up as
having served a course which they had never attended, and he had kept
their training pay as his price. What his less guilty conspirators
gained was the retention of their names on the strength, to qualify
them in due time for their pensions.

This and other abuses of the old system had been abolished when the
Admiralty decided that every reservist must put in his annual spell
of training at sea. The trick at the time had lain heavily upon
Nicky-Nan's conscience: but with time he had forgotten it. Since the
new order came into force, he had fulfilled his obligations regularly
enough--until the year before last, by which time his leg really
disabled him. It had fortuned, however, that one afternoon on the