avay!" He pointed over to the Presidio, where the _Flint_ lay at
anchor. We followed the line of his fat forefinger. At anchor, yes,
but the anchor nearly a-weigh. Her flags were hoisted, the blue peter
fluttering at the fore, and the _Active_ tug was passing a hawser
aboard, getting ready to tow her out. The smoke from the tugboat's
funnel was whirling and blowing over the low forts that guard the
Golden Gates. Good luck! A fine nor'-west breeze had come that would
lift our dreaded rival far to the south'ard on her way round Cape Horn!

Schenke saw the pleased look with which old Burke regarded the Yankee's
preparations for departure.

"Goot bizness, eh?" he said. "You t'ink you fly de flack on de _Hilda_
nex' _Sonndag_, Cabtin? Veil! Ah wish you goot look, but you dond't
got it all de same!"

"Oh, well, Captain Schenke, we can but thry," said the old man. "We
can but thry, sorr! . . . Shure, she's a foine boat--that o'
yours. . . . An' likely-looking lads, too!" No one could but admire
the well-set figures of the German crew as they stroked easily beside
us.

"_Schweinehunden_," said Schenke brutally. We noticed more than one
stolid face darkling as they glanced aside. Schenke had the name of a
"hard case." "_Schweinehunden_," he said again. "Dey dond't like de
hard vork, Cabtin. . . . Dey dond't like it--but ve takes der Coop,
all de same! Dey pulls goot und strong, oder"--he rasped a short
sentence in rapid Low German--"Shermans dond't be beat by no durn
lime-juicer, _nein_!"

Old Burke grinned. "Cocky as ever, Captain Schenke! Bedad now, since
ye had the luck of ye're last passage there's no limit to ye!"

"Luck! Luck! Alvays de luck mit you, Cabtin!"

"An' whatt ilse? . . . Sure, if I hadn't struck a bilt of calms an'
had more than me share of head winds off the Horn, I'd have given ye a
day or two mesilf!"

"Ho! Ho! Ho! _Das ist gut_!" The green boat rocked with Schenke's
merriment. He laughed from his feet up--every inch of him shook with
emotion. "Ho! Ho! Hoo! _Das ist ganz gut_. You t'ink you beat de
_Hedwig Rickmers_ too, Cabtin? You beat 'm mit dot putty leetle
barque? You beat 'm mit de _Hilda_, _nichtwahr_?"

"Well, no," said our old man. "I don't exactly say I beat the
_Rickmers_, but if I had the luck o' winds that ye had, bedad, I'd
crack th' _Hilda_ out in a hundred an' five days too!"

"Now, dot is not drue, Cabtin! _Aber ganz und gar nicht_! You kno