Peasley?"

"On the Grand Banks, sir."

"I beg your pardon," said the skipper; "but really I thought you were a
Native Son. My father was drowned there thirty years ago."

"The Peasleys have all died on the Banks sir," Matt replied, much
mollified.

"We'll go down into my cabin and drink a toast to their memory, Mr.
Peasley. It isn't often we skippers out here meet one of our own."

It is hard for a Down-Easter, even though he may have lost the speech of
his people, not to be, partial to his own; and Captain Noah Kendall, of
the barkentine Retriever, was all the cook had declared him to be. He
scolded his Norsk mates so bitterly while the vessel was taking on cargo
at Grays Harbor that both came and asked for their time an hour before
the vessel sailed. However, the old man was aware they would do this,
for he had handled that breed too long not to know that the Scandinavian
sailor on the Pacific Coast quits his job on the slightest pretext, but
never dreams of leaving until he knows that by so doing he can embarrass
the master or owners. Even if the mates had not quit, Kendall would have
discharged them, for it had been in his mind to try Matt Peasley out as
chief mate, and acquire a second mate with a sweeter disposition than
that possessed by the late incumbent.

No sooner had the Norsk mates departed than Captain Noah Kendall paid a
visit to Captain McBride in command of the schooner Nokomis (also a
Blue Star vessel), which had arrived that day and was waiting for the
Retriever's berth at the mill dock, in order to commence loading.

"Mac," quoth Captain Noah, "what kind of a second mate have you got?"

"A no-good Irish hound named Murphy," McBride replied promptly, for
he had heard rumors of war aboard the Retriever and something told him
Kendall had come to borrow his second mate, in order that the Retriever
might tow out immediately. A canny, cunning lad was McBride, but for all
his Scotch blood he was no match for Captain Noah Kendall.

"I heard he wasn't worth two squirts of bilge water," Captain Noah lied
glibly. "However, I'll take him off your hands and reimburse you for
the expense of bringing his successor down from Seattle or up from San
Francisco. My two mates have just asked to be paid off, and despite the
fact that they have signed articles, I've let them go. No use going to
sea with a pair of sulky mates, you know. Fortunately, I had a young
Down-Easter aboard and I've put him in as first mat