n their midst. "Who is that man?"

"Joe Fergusson," cried out one of the men. "It's Joe Fergusson, sir."

Captain Gillespie was bothered, thinking he could not hear aright.

"Joe Fergusson?" he called back. "I don't know any man of that name, or
anything like it, who signed articles with me, and is entered on the
ship's books. Pass the word forrud for the bosun--where is he?"

"Here, sorr," cried out Tim Rooney, who of course was close at hand,
having bounded to the scene of action the moment he heard the man's wild
weird shriek as he fell, arriving just in time to see his wonderful
escape. "Here I am, sorr."

"Who is the man that fell?"

"Our new hand, sorr."

"New hand?" repeated Captain Gillespie after him, as perplexed as ever.
"What new hand?"

"Joe Fergusson, sorr. Himsilf and no ither, sure, sorr."

"What the dickens do ye mean, man?" said the captain, angry at the
mystification. "I don't know of any Joe Fergusson or any new hands save
those I brought on board myself at Gravesend; and there was no one of
that name amongst 'em, I'm certain."

"Aye, aye, thrue for ye, cap'en," answered Tim, and although, of course,
I couldn't see him, I'm sure he must have winked when he spoke, there
was a tone of such rich jocularity in his voice; "but, sure, sor this is
the chap as brought himsilf aboard. He's the stowaway, sorr; Joe
Fergusson, by the same token!"

CHAPTER TEN.

CROSSING THE LINE.

"Humph!" grunted Captain Gillespie, astounded by this information.
"That's the joker, is it?"

"Aye, aye, sorr," said Tim Rooney, thinking he was asked the question
again as to the other's identity; "it's him, sure enough."

"Then I should like to know what the dickens he means by such conduct as
this? The beggar first comes aboard my ship without my leave or
license, and then tries to break his neck by going aloft when nobody
sent him there!"

"Arrah sure, sorr, the poor chap ownly did it to show his willin'ness to
worruk his passige, sayin' as how Mr Mackay tould him ye'd blow him up
for comin' aboard whin he came-to this arternoon, sorr," pleaded Tim,
not perceiving, as I did, that all the captain's anger against the
unfortunate stowaway had melted away by this time on learning that he
had shown such courage. "Begorra, he would cloimb up the shrouds, sorr,
whin ye tould the hands to lay aloft; an' the divil himsilf, sorr,
wouldn't 'a stopped him."

"He's a plucky fellow," cried the captain in a mu