id a little figuring. He found that at
seventy-five revolutions per minute the _Montana_ would log off about
the same speed that the freighter made when doing her best. He resolved
to make the fog an excuse and slow down to the _Nequasset's_ familiar
rate of progress. He reflected that he would feel pretty much at home
under those circumstances. He was heartened, and went about the ship
looking less like a malefactor doomed to execution.

When General-Manager Fogg, bustled on board a few minutes prior to the
advertised sailing-time at five o'clock, he commented on Captain Mayo's
improved demeanor.

"Getting one of the best jobs on this coast seemed to make considerable
of a mourner out of you. Perhaps a mirror has shown you how well you
look in that new uniform. At any rate, I'm glad to see you have chirked
up. And now I'll give you a piece of news that ought to make you look
still happier: I'm going along on this trip with you. If you show me
that you can do a good job in this kind of weather you needn't worry
about your position."

The expression on Captain Mayo's face did not indicate unalloyed delight
when he heard this "good news." Unaccustomed as he was to the ship, he
could not hope to make a smooth showing.

"And still you refuse to cheer up!" remonstrated the manager.

"I am glad you are going along, sir. Don't misunderstand me. But a
sailor is a pretty serious chap when he feels responsibility. I'm
undertaking a big stunt."

"It's the best way to find out whether you're the man for the
job--whether you're the man I think you are. It's a test that beats
sailing ships on a puddle."

"I'm glad you're aboard," repeated the captain. "It's going to shade
down my responsibility just a little."

"It is, is it?" cried Manager Fogg, his tones sharp. "Not by a blamed
sight! You're the captain of this craft. I'm a passenger. Don't try to
shirk. You aren't afraid, are you?"

They were standing beside the dripping rail outside the pilot-house.
Far below them, in the spacious depths of the steamer, a bugle sounded
long-drawn notes and the monotonous calls of stewards warned "All
ashore!"

The gangways were withdrawn with dull "clackle" of wet chains over
pulleys, and Captain Mayo, after a swift glance at his watch, to make
sure of the time, ordered a quartermaster to sound the signal for "Cast
off!" The whistle yelped a gruff note, and, seeing that all was clear,
the captain yanked the auxiliary bell-pulls at th