it's profitable, hard to understand, and as cute
as--'

"'Don't say the last!' interrupts Pluck. 'Seeing it's you, citizen, we
wont argue that point just now. Satisfied on the dockerments, ain't
ye?'

"'Confound the dockerments! I don't want to bother myself with
them. Mind your eye next time; cover when you see the signal,' says
the Britisher, whom Pluck had got nicely smoothed down.

"'Reckon how there won't be any mistake about it next time. Give us
yer hand, captain.' (Pluck shakes hands with the Britisher). 'They say
the Pinkey, Starlight--you know she's a ripper to fish inside of the
line!--got into a monstrous shoal of fresh mackerel day afore
yesterday, and is now takin' on 'em like sixty, inside of the line,
down _north-east_ of us.'

"'Do you tell me that? That fellow Smooth at it, again, fishing inside
of the line? And inside the point as well, I suppose?' The Britisher
looked surprised, and listened attentively to Pluck as he assumed an
air of innocence.

"'Just so! Smooth is the keenest feller. Don't care a whit about the
line; and the Starlight's so mighty used to fishin' inside, that even
the fish seem to have a likin' for the skipper.'

"'I'll see after that treaty-breaker, I will,' growls the chap,
changing his good natur' into bad again.

"'Down _north-east of us_ ye'll find him, inside the point,' continues
Pluck, looking all over serious.

"'I'll catch the fellow, and right soon, too;' and, being right good
friends, they shook hands, and the Britisher left, quite satisfied.
Just as he, in his boat, was leavin' the Spunk for the Devastation,
Pluck bellowed out, fearin' he'd forget it, 'Keep a straight course,
_north-east_ about two points east! about two points east! and yer
sure to come upon him.' The last thing Pluck saw of the Devastation,
she was heading for _the supposed spot_, steering away, drivin' all
the fish into the middle of the Atlantic, and expecting to find the
Starlight where Pluck said she was.

"No sooner was the Devastation put all right than Pluck hauled his
wind, and next mornin' came up with the Starlight, which had taken
about eighty barrels of fine fat mackerel. The game being nicely
played, the Starlight and the Spunk both run in for a shelter, where
the spoils could be shared according to practical diplomacy--not the
diplomacy that has been twenty years gettin' the question into an
interminable difficulty. This done, Smooth, having helped the folks on
shore with