e strong sea
winds.

There were no spies around. The Rector sat down again at his brother's
side.

His wife had put the idea into his head. He had thought it over
carefully, and come to the conclusion it was a good one. A trip "across
the way," as people remembered his father used to say, over to the
_costa d'afora_, to Algiers! No fishing, you understand. Fish aren't
always around when you need them most. No, not that! But a cargo of
contraband, the boat crammed to the decks with _alguilla_ and _flor de
mayo_, God of Gods! There, _rediel_, was business for you! And that was
what the old man had done a thousand times. Well, what did Tonet say?

The honest Rector, who would never have dreamed of breaking a town
ordinance or a harbor rule, laughed like a saint in heaven at the
thought of that haul of tobacco which for days and days had been dancing
before his eyes, till now he could actually see the fragrant bundles
standing there wrapped in burlap on the sand. He was a son of the
Spanish coast, proud of the deeds of his ancestors. In his eyes
smuggling was the one thing a self-respecting sailor could take up when
he got tired of fishing.

Tonet thought it was a bright idea. He had made two trips like that,
though as ordinary seaman. Now that business was dull on the wharves,
and _tio_ Mariano hadn't gotten him that job in the coast and harbor
survey he had wanted so, there was no reason why he shouldn't go along
with his brother.

The Rector rounded out the plan. The most important thing he had
already--his own boat, _la Garbosa_. Tonet gasped with surprise, so the
Rector enlarged further on that detail. Of course he realized the tub
was broken amidships, the ribs strained, the deck warped and sagging in
the middle--squeaking like an old guitar every time a sea went under
her, ready for breaking up, about. But they hadn't fooled him, they
hadn't fooled him! Thirty _duros_, he had paid, not a cent more. And the
firewood in her was worth that much. But she would keep afloat under men
who knew the taste of salt water. For his part, he could negotiate that
pond in a shoe with the tap gone! Besides, you see,--and he gave a
knowing wink--if the revenue people caught them and confiscated the
boat--well, thirty _duros_! And that clinched the argument for the wily
Rector. Not a thought of the chance he was taking with his life in such
a sieve!

The crew?... Himself, his brother, and two men he knew and could trust.
That