down his fist with a triumphant bang, wetted
his finger, and went on counting the bills.

"Oh, you're a high-grade machine, with the writing in plain sight," the
Philadelphian yawned. "You'll blossom into a credit to your country if
you don't take care."

"I know it. I'm an American--first, last, and all the time. I'll show
'em that when I strike Europe. Piff! My cig's out. I can't smoke the
truck the steward sells. Any gen'elman got a real Turkish cig on him?"

The chief engineer entered for a moment, red, smiling, and wet. "Say,
Mac," cried Harvey cheerfully, "how are we hitting it?"

"Vara much in the ordinary way," was the grave reply. "The young are as
polite as ever to their elders, an' their elders are e'en tryin' to
appreciate it."

A low chuckle came from a corner. The German opened his cigar-case and
handed a skinny black cigar to Harvey.

"Dot is der broper apparatus to smoke, my young friendt," he said. "You
vill dry it? Yes? Den you vill be efer so happy."

Harvey lit the unlovely thing with a flourish: he felt that he was
getting on in grownup society.

"It would take more 'n this to keel me over," he said, ignorant that he
was lighting that terrible article, a Wheeling "stogie".

"Dot we shall bresently see," said the German. "Where are we now, Mr.
Mactonal'?"

"Just there or thereabouts, Mr. Schaefer," said the engineer. "We'll be
on the Grand Bank to-night; but in a general way o' speakin', we're all
among the fishing-fleet now. We've shaved three dories an' near scalped
the boom off a Frenchman since noon, an' that's close sailing', ye may
say."

"You like my cigar, eh?" the German asked, for Harvey's eyes were full
of tears.

"Fine, full flavor," he answered through shut teeth. "Guess we've
slowed down a little, haven't we? I'll skip out and see what the log
says."

"I might if I vhas you," said the German.

Harvey staggered over the wet decks to the nearest rail. He was very
unhappy; but he saw the deck-steward lashing chairs together, and,
since he had boasted before the man that he was never seasick, his
pride made him go aft to the second-saloon deck at the stern, which was
finished in a turtle-back. The deck was deserted, and he crawled to the
extreme end of it, near the flag-pole. There he doubled up in limp
agony, for the Wheeling "stogie" joined with the surge and jar of the
screw to sieve out his soul. His head swelled; sparks of fire danced
before his eyes; his body seeme