n th' road," sang out the
tow-boat's skipper, eyeing our rusty side and grassy counter.

"Head winds," said the Old Man, "head winds, an' no luck this side o'
th' Horn."

"Ye're a long way to th' norrard, Cap. Bin havin' thick weather
outside?"

"Well, not what ye might call thick, but musty, these last few days.
We were lookin' to pick up the Farallones." (The unblushing old
Ananias!)

There ensued a conversation about winds and weather, ships and
freights, interspersed with the news of five months back. The talk
went on, and neither seemed inclined to get to business. At last the
tow-boat man broke the ice.

"Wall, Cap., I reckon ye don't want t' stay here all day. Wind's
easterly inside, an' there ain't none too much water on th' bar. Ye'd
better give us yer hawser 'n let's git right along."

"Oh! no hurry, Capt'in; there's no hurry. What's a day here or there
when ye'r well over the hundreds? I can lay up to th' pilot ground on
th' next tack.... Ye'll be wantin' a big figure from here, an' my
owners won't stand a long pull."

"Only six hundred, Cap., only six hundred, with your hawser."

The Old Man started back in amazement.

"Six hundred dollars, Capt'in. Did you say six hundred? Holy smoke!
I don't want t' buy yer boat, Capt'in.... Six hundred--well, I'm
damned. Loose them royals, Mister! Six hundred, no damn fear!"

Quickly we put the royals on her, though they were little use, the wind
having fallen very light. The tow-boat sheered off a bit, and her
skipper watched us sheeting-home, as if it were a most interesting and
uncommon sight.

He gave his wheel a spoke or two and came alongside again.

"All right, Cap. Give us yer hawser 'n I'll dock ye for five-fifty!"

The Old Man paid no attention to his request, but paced fore and aft
the weather side, gazing occasionally at the lazy royals, then fixing
the man at the wheel with a reproachful eye. At last he turned to
leeward with a surprised expression, as if astonished to find the
tow-boat still there.

"Come, Cap.! Strike it right naow! What d'ye offer? Mind the wind,
as there is ov it, is due east in the Strait."

The Old Man thought carefully for quite a time. "Hundred 'n fifty, 'n
your hawser," he said.

The Captain of the _Active_ jammed his telegraph at full speed ahead.

"Good morn', Cap.," he said. "Guess I'll see ye in 'Frisco this side
o' the Noo Year." He forged rapidly ahead, and when clear of the bows
to