mind yet," said Mr. Dodds deliberately. "I 'ave
thought of 'ouse property."

"I don't mean that," said the other. "I mean, wot are you going to do
with it now, to take care of it?"

"Why, keep it in my pocket," said Sam, staring.

"Well, if I was you," said Harry impressively, "I should ask the skipper
to take care of it for me. You know wot you are when you're a bit on,
Sam."

"Wot d' yer mean?" demanded Mr. Dodds hotly.

"I mean," said Harry hastily, "that you've got sich a generous nature
that when you've 'ad a glass or two you're just as likely as not to give
it away to somebody."

"I know what I'm about," said Mr. Dodds with conviction. "I'm not goin'
to get on while I've got this about me. I'm just goin' round to the
'Bull's Head,' but I shan't drink anything to speak of myself. Anybody
that likes to come t'ave anything at my expense is welcome."

A flattering murmur, which was music to Mr. Dodds' ear, arose from his
shipmates as they went on deck and hauled the boat alongside. The boy
was first in her, and pulling out his pocket-handkerchief ostentatiously
wiped down a seat for Mr. Dodds.

"Understand," said that gentleman, with whom the affair of the
half-sovereign still rankled, "_your_ drink is shandygaff."

* * * * *

They returned to the brig at eleven o'clock, Mr. Dodds slumbering
peacefully in the stern of the boat, propped up on either side by Steve
and the boy.

His sleep was so profound that he declined to be aroused, and was
hoisted over the side with infinite difficulty and no little risk by his
shipmates.

"Look at 'im," said Harry, as they lowered him down the forecastle.
"What 'ud ha' become of 'im if we hadn't been with 'im? Where would 'is
money ha' been?"

"He'll lose it as sure as eggs is heggs," said Steve, regarding him
intently. "Bear a hand to lift 'im in his bunk, Harry."

Harry complied, their task being rendered somewhat difficult by a slight
return of consciousness in Mr. Dodds' lower limbs, which, spreading
themselves out fan wise, defied all attempts to pack them in the bunk.

"Let 'em hang out then," said Harry savagely, wiping a little mud from
his face. "Fancy _that_ coming in for a fortin."

"'E won't 'ave it long," said the cook, shaking his head.

"Wot 'e wants is a shock," said Harry. "'Ow'd it be when he wakes up to
tell 'im he's lost all 'is money?"

"Wot's the good o' telling 'im," demanded the cook, "when 'e's got it in
his pocket?"

"Well, let's t