lucky if his boy's share was enough to cover what he owed.

A few weeks later a boy stood by the yard gate of an engineering works
in the town just as the bell was ringing and the men came streaming out,
and asked for Klaus Brock.

"Hullo, Peer--that you? Been to Lofoten and made your fortune?"

The two boys stood a moment taking stock of one another: Klaus
grimy-faced and in working-clothes--Peer weather-beaten and tanned by
storm and spray.

The manager of the factory was Klaus's uncle, and the same afternoon his
nephew came into the office with a new hand wanting to be taken on as
apprentice. He had done some smithy work before, he said; and he was
taken on forthwith, at a wage of twopence an hour.

"And what's your name?"

"Peer--er"--the rest stuck in his throat.

"Holm," put in Klaus.

"Peer Holm? Very well, that'll do."

The two boys went out with a feeling of having done something rather
daring. And anyway, if trouble should come along, there would be two of
them now to tackle it.