uninjured. It was squab and glossy, and, by giving the whole feature
an air of being on the point of expanding to its original shape,
produced a snubbed expression which relieved the otherwise
formidable aspect of the man, and recommended him as probably a
modest and affable fellow when sober and unprovoked. He seemed about
fifty years of age, and was clad in a straw hat and a suit of white
linen.

He had just finished his pipe when a youth stopped to read the card
on the doorpost. This youth was attired in a coarse sailor's jersey
and a pair of gray tweed trousers, which he had considerably
outgrown.

"Looking for a job?" inquired the ex-champion of England and the
colonies.

The youth blushed and replied, "Yes. I should like to get something
to do."

Mr. Skene stared at him with stern curiosity. His piofessional
pursuits had familiarized him with the manners and speech of English
gentlemen, and he immediately recognized the shabby sailor lad as
one of that class.

"Perhaps you're a scholar," said the prize-fighter, after a moment's
reflection.

"I have been at school; but I didn't learn much there," replied the
youth. "I think I could bookkeep by double entry," he added,
glancing at the card.