as a salt-flavoured jest he had been put up to by Tom
Platt. Manuel leaned over the stern and yelled: "Johanna Morgan play
the organ! Ahaaaa!" He flourished his broad thumb with a gesture of
unspeakable contempt and derision, while little Penn covered himself
with glory by piping up: "Gee a little! Hssh! Come here. Haw!"

They rode on their chain for the rest of the night, a short, snappy,
uneasy motion, as Harvey found, and wasted half the forenoon recovering
the cable. But the boys agreed the trouble was cheap at the price of
triumph and glory, and they thought with grief over all the beautiful
things that they might have said to the discomfited _Carrie_.

CHAPTER VII

Next day they fell in with more sails, all circling slowly from the
east northerly towards the west. But just when they expected to make
the shoals by the Virgin the fog shut down, and they anchored,
surrounded by the tinklings of invisible bells. There was not much
fishing, but occasionally dory met dory in the fog and exchanged news.

That night, a little before dawn, Dan and Harvey, who had been sleeping
most of the day, tumbled out to "hook" fried pies. There was no reason
why they should not have taken them openly; but they tasted better so,
and it made the cook angry. The heat and smell below drove them on deck
with their plunder, and they found Disko at the bell, which he handed
over to Harvey.

"Keep her goin'," said he. "I mistrust I hear somethin'. Ef it's
anything, I'm best where I am so's to get at things."

It was a forlorn little jingle; the thick air seemed to pinch it off,
and in the pauses Harvey heard the muffled shriek of a liner's siren,
and he knew enough of the Banks to know what that meant. It came to
him, with horrible distinctness, how a boy in a cherry-coloured
jersey--he despised fancy blazers now with all a fisher-man's
contempt--how an ignorant, rowdy boy had once said it would be "great"
if a steamer ran down a fishing-boat. That boy had a stateroom with a
hot and cold bath, and spent ten minutes each morning picking over a
gilt-edged bill of fare. And that same boy--no, his very much older
brother--was up at four of the dim dawn in streaming, crackling
oilskins, hammering, literally for the dear life, on a bell smaller
than the steward's breakfast-bell, while somewhere close at hand a
thirty-foot steel stem was storming along at twenty miles an hour! The
bitterest thought of all was that there were folks asleep i