police and their ways, and the lieutenant quoted rules and regulations
in despairing accents.

Alf rose up from the forecastle-head and extended his hand, saying:

"I guess I'll take those clothes. Thank you for bringing them aboard so
promptly."

"I don't see why he couldn't have brought you aboard inside of them,"
said the captain's son.

And the police lieutenant said nothing, though he turned the clothes
over somewhat sheepishly to their rightful owner.

The next day, when Alf started to go ashore, he found himself surrounded
by shouting and gesticulating, though very respectful, sampan men, all
extraordinarily anxious to have him for a passenger. Nor did the one he
selected say, "You pay now," when he entered his boat. When Alf prepared
to step out on to the pier, he offered the man the customary ten sen.
But the man drew himself up and shook his head.

"You all right," he said. "You no pay. You never no pay. You bully boy
and all right."

And for the rest of the _Annie Mine's_ stay in port, the sampan men
refused money at Alf Davis's hand. Out of admiration for his pluck and
independence, they had given him the freedom of the harbor.

* * * * *