ter--no longer
iridescent.

"What do you call it?" shouted the red man. "I want able seamen--I don't
figger on working this boat with dancing masters, do I? We ain't exactly
doing quadrilles on my quarterdeck. If we don't look out we'll step on
this thing and break it. It ain't ought to be let around loose without
its ma."

"Rot that," vociferated the brown sweater. "I tell you he's one of the
best sailor men on the front. If he ain't we'll forfeit the money. Come
on, Captain Kitchell, we made show enough gettin' away as it was, and
this daytime business ain't our line. D'you sign or not? Here's the
advance note. I got to duck my nut or I'll have the patrol boat after
me."

"I'll sign this once," growled the other, scrawling his name on the
note; "but if this swab ain't up to sample, he'll come back by freight,
an' I'll drop in on mee dear friend Jim when we come back and give him a
reel nice time, an' you can lay to that, Billy Trim." The brown sweater
pocketed the note, went over the side, and rowed off.

Wilbur stood in the waist of a schooner anchored in the stream well off
Fisherman's wharf. In the forward part of the schooner a Chinaman in
brown duck was mixing paint. Wilbur was conscious that he still wore his
high hat and long coat, but his stick was gone and one gray glove was
slit to the button. In front of him towered the enormous red-faced man.
A pungent reek of some kind of rancid fat or oil assailed his nostrils.
Over by Alcatraz a ferry-boat whistled for its slip as it elbowed its
way through the water.

Wilbur had himself fairly in hand by now. His wits were all about him;
but the situation was beyond him as yet.

"Git for'd," commanded the big man.

Wilbur drew himself up, angry in an instant. "Look here," he began,
"what's the meaning of this business? I know I've been drugged and
mishandled. I demand to be put ashore. Do you understand that?"

"Angel child," whimpered the big man. "Oh, you lilee of the vallee, you
bright an' mornin' star. I'm reely pained y'know, that your vally can't
come along, but we'll have your piano set up in the lazarette. It gives
me genuine grief, it do, to see you bein' obliged to put your lilee
white feet on this here vulgar an' dirtee deck. We'll have the Wilton
carpet down by to-morrer, so we will, my dear. Yah-h!" he suddenly broke
out, as his rage boiled over. "Git for'd, d'ye hear! I'm captain of this
here bathtub, an' that's all you need to know for a good w