all; an' he'd marvel so hard for a bit, t' make head
an' tale o' the glance he got, that he'd hear never a word o' what
Davy Junk said. An' without knowin' why, he'd be ashamed of hisself
for a cruel man. 'God's sake, Skipper Davy!' thinks he; 'you needn't
be afeared o' _me_! _I_ isn't goin' t' touch you!' An' afore he knowed
it he'd have had quite a spurt o' conversation with Davy, without
sayin' a word, but merely by means o' the eyes; the upshot bein'
this: that he'd promise not t' hurt Davy, an' Davy'd promise not t'
hurt he.

"Thereafter--the thing bein' settled once an' for all--'twas plain
sailin' along o' Davy Junk.

"'Skipper Davy,' says I, 'what you afeared of?'

"He jumped. 'Me?' says he, after a bit. 'Why?'

"'Oh,' says I, 'I'm jus' curious t' know.'

"'I've noticed, Tumm,' says he, 'that you is a wonderful hand t' pry
into the hearts o' folk. But I 'low you doesn't mean no harm. That's
jus' Nature havin' her way. An' though I isn't very fond o' Nature, I
got t' stand by her dealin's here below. So I'll answer you fair. Why,
lad,' says he, '_I_ isn't afeared o' nothin'!'

"'You're wary as a wolf, man!'

"'I bet you I _is_!' says he, in a flash, with his teeth shut. 'A
man's _got_ t' be wary.'

"'They isn't nobody wants t' hurt a mild man like you.'

"'Pack o' wolves in this here world,' says he. 'No mercy nowhere. You
bites or gets bit.'

"Well, well! 'Twas news t' the lad that was I. 'Who tol' you so?' says
I.

"'Damme!' says he, 'I found it out.'

"'How?'

"'Jus' by livin' along t' be thirty-odd years.'

"'Why, Skipper Davy,' says I, 'it looks t' me like a kind an' lovely
world!'

"'You jus' wait 'til you're thirty-two, like me,' says he, 'an' see
how you likes it.'

"'You can't scare _me_, Skipper Davy!'

"'World's full o' wolves, I tells you!'

"'Sure,' says I, 'you doesn't _like_ t' think that, does you?'

"'It don't matter what I likes t' think,' says he. 'I've gathered
wisdom. I thinks as I must.'

"'I wouldn't believe it, ecod,' says I, 'an I knowed it t' be true!'

"An' I never did."

Tumm chuckled softly in the dark--glancing now at the friendly stars,
for such reassurance, perhaps, as he needed, and had had all his
genial life.

* * * * *

"A coward or not, as you likes it, an' make up your own minds," Tumm
went on; "but 'twas never the sea that scared un. 'They isn't no wind
can scare me,' says he, 'for I isn't bad friends with dea