" said Scotty, as he wrung out his wet
clothing in the tug's small forecastle. "And I'll regard the dollar as a
special deespensation of an all-wise Providence; for what would I do in
Boston wi'oot a bit o' money in my clothes?"

But he did not reach Boston. The tug had a full crew, scant
accommodations, and a hard-hearted captain, who decreed that Scotty
should be put aboard the first craft that would take him. This happened
to be a three-skysail-yard American ship--the _Baltimore_--two days out
from New York for Shanghai, whose skipper backed his yard in answer to
the tug-captain's offer to give him a sailor, and whose third-mate
received Scotty--not with open arms, but clinched fists, as he dropped,
swearing, to the deck in a bosun's chair.

"You ought to be glad you're alive," said her skipper, harshly, when
Scotty had, later, come aft to protest against his abduction. "He pulled
you out of a life-buoy, where you'd ha' drowned 'fore the next craft
came along, and puts you aboard a big, safe ship where you couldn't fall
overboard if you tried. Get forward, now, and stop this talk."

"And am I to be put on the articles?" demanded Scotty. "I expect to wark
where'er I be; but do I get pay, I'm askin'?"

"No. My articles are full. You'll _wark_ your passage."

"Four months' sleevery in a hell-ship," growled Scotty, as he went
forward. "This comes o' back-sleedin'. Lord forgi' me for it, but the
punishment is hard. Howe'er, I'll just hang on to the dollar. I'll ha'
earned it long this side o' the cape."

He did, and continued to earn it until the ship had neared the
Yangtse-Kiang. Marked for the officers' attentions by his initial
profane and irreverent comment on his transferral by the tug-captain, he
was assaulted on the slightest provocation by the mates--no bigger than
he or more skillful of fist, but justified by the law--and, though
easily the best sailorman of the mixed crew, was put at distasteful
tasks while inferior men worked at sailorly work on ropes and rigging.

There was nothing of this in the watch below, for Scotty could thrash
the best two men forward, and led them all in forecastle discourse; but
as it was a mixed crew, none too honest, in his opinion, he made a
monk-bag--a leather pocket--for his dollar, and hung it around his neck;
and, to further protect the precious coin, forswore his religion, called
himself a Catholic and the monk-bag a phylactery, with a saint's relic
within. This brought