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chinned, long-lipped Galway man, bending to and fro exactly as
Manuel had done. Disko in the cabin growled up the hatchway, and
they could hear him suck his pencil.

"Wan hunder an' forty-nine an' a half - bad luck to ye,
Discobolus!" said Long Jack. "I'm murderin' meself to fill your
pockuts. Slate ut for a bad catch. The Portugee has bate me."

Whack came another dory alongside, and more fish shot into the
pen.

"Two hundred and three. Let's look at the passenger!" The speaker
was even larger than the Galway man, and his face was made curious
by a purple cut running slantways from his left eye to the right
corner of his mouth.

Not knowing what else to do, Harvey swabbed each dory as it came
down, pulled out the foot-boards, and laid them in the bottom of
the boat.

"He's caught on good," said the scarred man, who was Tom Platt,
watching him critically. "There are two ways o' doin' everything.
One's fisher-fashion - any end first an' a slippery hitch over all
- an' the other's -"

"What we did on the old Ohio!" Dan interrupted, brushing into the
knot of men with a long board on legs. "Git out o' here, Tom
Platt, an' leave me fix the tables."

He jammed one end of the board into two nicks in the bulwarks,
kicked out the leg, and ducked just in time to avoid a swinging
blow from the man-o'-war's man.

"An' they did that on the Ohio, too, Danny. See?" said Tom Platt,
laughing.

"'Guess they was swivel-eyed, then, fer it didn't git home, and I
know who'll find his boots on the main-truck ef he don't leave us
alone. Haul ahead! I'm busy, can't ye see?"

"Danny, ye lie on the cable an' sleep all day," said Long Jack.
"You're the hoight av impidence, an' I'm persuaded ye'll corrupt
our supercargo in a week."

"His name's Harvey," said Dan, waving two strangely shaped knives,
"an' he'll be worth five of any Sou' Boston clam-digger 'fore
long." He laid the knives tastefully on the table, cocked his head
on one side, and admired the effect.

"I think it's forty-two," said a small voice over-side, and there
was a roar of laughter as another voice answered, "Then my luck's
turned fer onct, 'caze I'm forty-five, though I be stung outer all
shape."

"Forty-two or forty-five. I've lost count," the small voice said.

"It's Penn an' Uncle Salters caountin' catch. This beats the
circus any day," said Dan. "Jest look at 'em!"

"Come in - come in!" roared Long Jack. "It's wet out yondher,
children."

"Forty-two, ye said." This was Uncle Salters.

"I'll count again, then," the voice replied meekly.

The two dories swung together and bunted into the schooner's side.

"Patience o' Jerusalem! "snapped Uncle Salters, backing water with
a splash. "What possest a farmer like you to set foot in a boat
beats me. You've nigh stove me all up."

"I am sorry, Mr. Salters. I came to sea on account of nervous
dyspepsia. You advised me, I think."

"You an' your nervis dyspepsy be drowned in the Whale-hole,"

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