d fifty-four miles an
hour, the weather bureau says. Fifty-four miles an hour. That's not
street corner talk--it's official. And----"

"Divil take it, does being official make it blow any harder?" asked
O'Donnell.

"And I know the way you fishermen will try to carry on. I know, I
know--don't tell me you're careful. I tell you, Captain O'Donnell, and
you, Captain Marrs, I tell you all--that if you persist in racing
to-day I wash my hands of the whole affair--completely wash my----"

"Well, 'tis a fine wash day, too. Come, Wesley--come, Maurice, we'll
have to be getting on."

They left Mr. Edkins standing there. A little farther on they overtook
the manager of the insurance company, which had policies on most of
the fishing vessels. He was just about to enter his office when
O'Donnell spied him. "Hullo, there's the man I want to see--" and
hailed, "Just heave to a minute, Mr. Brooks, if you please. Now look
here, you know we've took a few pigs of iron out our vessels, and you
know it looks like a bit of weather outside. Now, what I want to know
is if I capsize the Colleen Bawn to-day--if I don't come home with
her--does my wife get the insurance? That's what I want to know--does
my wife get the insurance?"

Mr. Brooks looked at O'Donnell, rubbed his chin and scratched his
head, then looked at O'Donnell again. "Why, I suppose it all comes
under the usual risk of fishing vessels. I suppose so--but--h-m--it
will be pretty risky, won't it? But let me see--wait a moment
now--there's the President inside, and Mr. Emerson, too--he's a
director."

He went inside, and we could see that they were talking it over.
Pretty soon they all came out with the President of the company in
front. "Good-morning, Captain O'Donnell--Captain Marrs, good-morning.
How do you do, Maurice? Captain O'Donnell, take it from me as
official, your insurance on the Colleen Bawn is safe. For the honor
and glory of old Gloucester go ahead and sink her."

"And the Lucy Foster?" asked Wesley.

"And the Lucy Foster, Captain Marrs."

"Of course the Johnnie Duncan, speaking for the owners?" asked
Maurice.

"For every vessel that we insure that leaves the harbor to race
to-day."

"Hurroo!" said O'Donnell. "Don't tell me, Wesley, I'm no--what's
it?--dip-lo-mat. Yes, dip-lo-mat, by the Lord!"

But it certainly was a desperate morning for a race. The streets
seemed to be full of men ready to go out. There were to be only nine
vessels in the race, but