end of the chorus. The
last shout of the chorus was given with such vigour that Larry O'Hale
was unable to restrain himself. He flung open the door, leaped into the
room with a cheer and a yell that caused every man to spring up and
seize the nearest weapon, and Captain Dall, in a burst of fiery
indignation, was in the act of bringing a huge mass of firewood down on
the Irishman's skull when Will Osten sprang in and arrested his arm. At
the same moment Muggins recognised his old messmate, and, rushing at
him, seized him with a hug worthy of a black bear!

To describe the scene of surprise, confusion, and delight that followed
were impossible. The questions put that were never answered; the
answers given to questions never put; the exclamations; the cross
purposes; the inextricable conglomeration of past, present, and future
history--public, personal, and local; uttered, ejaculated and gasped, in
short, or incomplete, or disjointed sentences--all this baffles
description. After a few minutes, however, they quieted down, and,
while the new arrivals attacked the roast of beef, their former
messmates talked incessantly, and all at once!

"You're the laird of a splendid estate of rocks and scrub," said Captain
Dall to Will.

"Not to mention the river," replied Will, smiling.

"Without fish in it, ha!" groaned Cupples.

"But lots o' goold," suggested Larry, with a wink; "give us a drop o'
yer grog, lads, it's dry work meetin' so many friends all at wanst."

"Nothin' but water here!" said Muggins.

"What! wos ye singin' like that on cowld wather?"

"We wos!" returned Muggins.

"An' what's more," said Old Peter, "we've got used to it, an' don't feel
the want of grog at all. `What's in a name,' as Jonathan Edwards says
in his play of `Have it yer own way,' or somethin' like that. Why, if
you call it grog an' make believe, it goes down like--like--"

"Wather," suggested Larry; "well, well, let's have a drop, whativer it
is."

"But how comes it to pass," inquired Will, "that we should all meet here
just as people are made to do in a novel, or at the end of the last
scene in a play?"

"Nothing more natural," said Captain Blathers. "You know, when we were
cast adrift by the scoundrels that took my ship, Captain Dall, Mr
Cupples, and I, made the coast, and got to San Francisco, where we
remained, working at what we could, to scrape together a little money
before leaving for England, as we had no heart for the g