its little
throat in a burst of song.

"But he's so small," I laughed. "I should think you'd have a dog--seems
nearer your size."

I once saw a man struck by a spent bullet. I remember the sudden
pallor, the half gasp, and the expression of pain that followed. Then
the man uttered a cry. The same expression crossed the captain's face,
but there was no gasp and no cry; only a straightening of the lips and
a tightening-up of the iron jaw. Then, without a word of any kind in
answer, he caught up his cap, swung back the door, and with the wind
full on his chest, breasted his way to the bridge.

When the door swung open a moment later it closed on the first
officer--a square, thick-set, round-headed man, with mild blue eyes set
in a face framed by a half-circle of reddish-brown whiskers, the face
tanned by twenty-five years of sea service, fifteen of them with
Captain Bogart.

"Getting soapy," he said; "wind haulin' to the east'ard. Goin' to have
a nasty night." As he spoke he stripped off his tarpaulins, hung them
to a hook in the chart-room, and wiping the salt grime from his face
with his coat cuff, took the captain's empty seat at the table.

I knew by the captain's silent departure that I had made a break of
some kind, but I could not locate it. Perhaps the first officer might
explain.

"Captain lost his wife, didn't he?" I asked, moving my chair to make
room.

"No--never had one." He leaned forward and filled one of the empty
cups. "Why did you think so?"

"Well, more from the tone of his voice than anything else. Some trouble
about it, wasn't there?"

"There was. His sweetheart was burned to death ten years ago--lamp got
upset." These men are direct in their speech. It comes from their
life-long habit of giving short, crisp, meaning orders. He had reached
for the sugar now, and was dropping the lumps slowly into his cup.

"That explains it, then," I answered. "We were talking about the bird
over there, and he said a man must have something to love, being
without wife or children, and then I told him a big man like himself, I
should think, would rather have a dog--"

The first officer put down his cup, jerked his body around, and said,
his blue eyes looking into mine:

"You didn't say that, did you?"

I nodded my head.

"Mighty sorry. Don't any of us talk to him of his dog. What did he say?"

"Nothing. Turned a little pale, got up, and went out."

"Too bad! You didn't know, of course--wish I'd po