gone overboard, and Jack shark would have had
you."

"Ay, my lad, he would," growled Barney; "but I don't believe he'd a
liked me, for I must be precious tough by now."

"Say, lads," said another voice, "what's the reward for saving a
bo'sun's life?"

"Nothing," said Barney. "'Sides, you've on'y stopped somebody's
promotion. Steady there!"

At that moment, as Syd lay there with a misty feeling of confusion
troubling him, it seemed from the rocking of the boat that the
lieutenant had leaped on board, and the next moment he was kneeling
down, and his hands were busy about Syd.

"Belton, my dear lad," he said, excitedly, "where are you hurt?"

Syd looked at him wildly, and saw him through the mist.

"Hurt?" he said, after making an effort to speak, and feeling deathly
sick the while, "I--I don't know."

"Great heavens!" cried the lieutenant, "I would sooner it had been me.
But I see no blood, bo'sun."

"No, sir; I've been agoin' over him," growled Barney; "and he's got all
his arms, and legs, and, yes, his head's all right. You see I shoved
that oar in Jack's mouth just as he turned over to grab him."

"But the boy is half dead."

"Ketched him a horful crack with his snout, I think it weer, sir; for,
poor dear lad, he were knocked side wise. He'll come round."

All this time it was to Syd just as if the lieutenant and the boatswain
were moving about over him in a mist; but as some water was splashed in
his face, and his brows were bathed, the mist slowly passed away, and he
suddenly struggled up into a sitting position.

"That's better," cried the lieutenant, eagerly. "Are you in pain?"

"Shoulder hurts a little, sir," said Syd, huskily; "but where's the
shark?"

"Yonder, sir," said the boatswain, pointing to about fifty yards away,
where a something that looked like a thick miniature lateen sail was
gliding through the water.

"A narrow escape, Belton," said the lieutenant; "but you are saved,
thank heaven. Give way, my men."

"Arn't we going to try and serve out Master Jack, sir?" said one of the
men.

"No, my lad. What can we do without bait or line?"

"Like to spritsail-yard him, sir?" said Strake, touching his hat.

"What's spritsail-yarding?" said Syd, who was now trying to squeeze some
of the water out of his drenched uniform.

"Ketching your shark and then running a little spar through his nose,"
whispered the bo'sun, as the men gave way and the boat surged through
the water. "T