growled the captain, sardonically. "But not to keep you any longer in suspense, listen to this portion of my dear aunt's epistle: CONTENTS [Pg 23] "'There is a small commission I wish you to execute for me, Clive. My housekeeper's brother has died in New[Pg 23] York and left her a little girl to take care of. I can not spare Mrs. West long enough for her to go after the child; and, in fact, I don't think it would be safe for her to go, anyhow. She is so simple, poor woman, she would be quite lost in the wilderness of New York, and might be devoured by the bulls and bears that I hear infest the place. So I want you to bring the child to England with you. I dare say she will not be much trouble. I inclose a card with her name and New York address. You are to go there and get little Leo and bring her to her aunt. Now, do not upon any account forget the child, Clive, for West would be ready to die of chagrin if you did not bring the little brat to her the first of June.'" [Pg 23] He paused and looked at his friend in comical anger. "Did you ever hear of anything so deucedly cool in your life?" he said. "No, I never did. It is most outrageous. What shall you do?" "Advise me, please. Shall I rebel against my tormentor's mandate and refuse point-blank?" "No, never. Rather meet the peril boldly and vanquish it. Walk boldly up to the cannon's mouth. In other words, accept the small commission." "Small commission, indeed!" groaned the wretched victim. "What shall I do with a child—a girl-child, too—perhaps a baby?" "That would be the best of all. You need have no trouble then. Only provide a nurse, a sucking-bottle, and some cans of condensed milk, put them aboard with the[Pg 24] baby, and all your trouble is over," suggested the lieutenant. [Pg 24] "Is it so easy as that? Well, perhaps it is a baby. She calls it a girl, a little child. Yes, I have no doubt it is a baby. Well, when we leave Boston we will go over to New York and see about the nurse and the bottles," sighed Lancaster. CHAPTER VI. Captain Lancaster