convoy. It was an
all-day trip to Razee, for the lighter was a slow and clumsy craft, but
when Mayo at last made fast to the side of the _Conomo_ and squealed a
shrill salute with the whistle, the joy he found in Captain Candage's
rubicund countenance made amends for anxiety and delay.

"I knew you'd make a go of it, somehow," vouchsafed the old skipper.
"But who did you have to knock down in a dark place so as to steal his
money off'n him?"

"That's private business till we get ready to pay it back, with six per
cent, interest," stated the young man, bluntly.

"Oh, very well. So long as we've got it I don't care where you stole
it," returned Candage, with great serenity. "I simply know that you
didn't get it from skinflint Rowley, and that's comfort enough for me.
Let me tell you that we haven't been loafing on board here. We rigged
that taakul you see aloft, and jettisoned all the cargo we could get
at. It was all spoiled by the water. There's pretty free space for
operations 'midships. I've got out all her spare cable, and it's ready."

"And you've done a good job there, sir. We've got to make this lighter
fast alongside in such a way that a blow won't wreck her against us.
Spring cables--plenty of them--and we are sailors enough to know how to
moor. But when I think of what amateurs we are in the rest of this job,
cold shivers run over me."

"That Limeport water-front crowd got at you, too, hey?"

"Captain Candage, I have watched men more or less in this life. It's
sometimes a mighty big handicap for a man to be too wise. While the
awfully wise man sits back and shakes his head and figures prospects and
says it can't be done, the fool rushes in, because he doesn't know any
better, and blunders the job through and wins out. Let's keep on being
fools, good and plenty, but keep busy just the same."

And on that basis the rank amateurs of Razee proceeded with all the grit
that was in them.

The men of Hue and Cry had plenty of muscle and little wit. They asked
no questions, they did not look forward gioomily to doubtful prospects.
The same philosophy, or lack of it, that had always made life full of
merry hope when their stomachs were filled, taking no thought of the
morrow, animated them now. Fate had given Mayo and his associate an
ideal crew for that parlous job. It was not a question of union hours
and stated wages; they worked all night just as cheerily as they worked
all day.

An epic of the sea was liv