n to five. Every passenger aboard was soon desperately
seasick, and off Point Reyes so violently did the Quickstep pitch that
even some members of the crew became nauseated, among them Matt Peasley.
He had never been seasick before and he was ashamed of himself now,
notwithstanding the fact that he knew even the hardiest old seadogs are
not proof against mal-de-mer under certain extraordinary conditions.
Captain Kjellin, coming up on the bridge during Matt's watch, found
the latter doing the most unseamanlike thing imaginable. Caught in
a paroxysm at the weather end of the bridge, Matt, in his agony, was
patronizing the weather rail! The captain heard him squawk, and ducked
to avoid what instinct told him the gale would bring him his way.

"Vat you ban tankin' of?" he roared furiously. "You damned landsman!
Don't you know enough to discharge dot cargo over der lee rail?"

Having disposed of a hearty breakfast, Matt raised his green face and
stared sheepishly at the Finn. "You didn't get sprayed, did you, sir?"
he queried breathlessly.

"No, but who der devil ever heard of a seaman gettin' sick to
windward--?"

"I know it looks awful, sir," quavered Matt. "I thought something like
this might happen, and in order to be prepared for eventualities I
hung a fire bucket over the edge of the weather-bridge railing and set
another there by the binnacle. The man at the wheel got me started,
sir. He asked me if I liked fat pork. Can't you see that if I had made a
quick run for the lee rail while the vessel was pitching to leeward
the chances are I'd continue right on overboard? As soon as I get my
bearings again I'll empty the bucket, sir."

"Der fire buckets ban't for dot purpose."

"All right, sir. I'll buy you a new fire bucket when we get to Eureka,"
Matt answered contritely.

Kjellin stayed on the bridge a few minutes, growling and glaring, but
Matt was too ill and dispirited to pay any attention to him, so finally
he went below.

The Quickstep bucked the gale all the way to Humboldt Bar, and tied up
at the first mill dock at half past one o'clock on Friday. It was two
o'clock before the passengers and their baggage had been sent ashore,
but the minute the last trunk went over the rail the loading began.

"We'll work overtime again to-night," the first mate told Matt at
luncheon. "The old man will drive us hard to-morrow, and we'll have more
overtime Saturday night so we can get to sea early Sunday morning."

"I