they've got aboard, they
can't free that there propeller till daylight, if they do then. But it
do seem a pity to spoil a beautiful new soft bit of stuff like that, for
it'll never be no good again."

"Fine tackle for caulking," said the carpenter, "or making ships'
fenders."

"Yah!" cried the boatswain. "We should never get it again. It's gone,
and it give me quite a heartache to use up new ship's stores like that.
But what I was going to say was, that the skipper will be saddersfied
enough when we get back and tell him that Mr Burnett's crippled the big
gun."

"Oh, but that was the easy job," said Fitz. "It was just play, lifting
out that block and dropping it overboard."

"And a very pretty game too, Mr Burnett, sir," said the boatswain,
chuckling. "But I say, seems quite to freshen a man up to be able to
open his mouth and speak. While you two young gents was swarming up
that anchor, and all the time you was aboard till you come back plish,
plosh, I felt as if I couldn't breathe. I say, Mr Poole, would you
like to take these 'ere lines?"

"No," said Poole shortly; "I want to get dry. But why do you want me to
take the lines?"

"To get shut of the 'sponsibility, sir. I can't see which way to
steer."

"Oh, never mind the steering," cried Fitz. "Just keep her head to the
swell, and let's all rest, my lads. I feel so done up that I could go
to sleep. We can't do anything till daylight. Here, I say, Camel, did
you bring anything to eat?"

"The orders were to bring the rations stowed inside, sir," replied the
cook; "but a'm thenking I did slip a wee bit something into the locker
for'ard there, juist ahind where ye are sitting, sir. Would you mind
feeling? Hech! I never thought of that!"

"Thought of what?" said Fitz.

"Ye've got the ship's carpenter there, and he's got a nose like a cat
for feesh. Awm skeart that he smelt it oot in the dairk and it's all
gone."

"Haw, haw!" chuckled the carpenter. "You are wrong this time, Andy. I
got my smelling tackle all choked up with the stuff the bearings of that
gunboat's fan was oiled with--nasty rank stuff like Scotch oil. I don't
believe I shall smell anything else for a week."

_Rap_! went the lid of the little locker.

"It's all right, my lads," cried Fitz. "Here, Andy, man, those who hide
can find. Come over here and serve out the rations; but I wish we'd got
some of your hot prime soup."

"Ay, laddie," said the cook softly, as he obe