en the storm broke with a screech and a massing of angry water. The
boats had been under sail, and in a flash two of them were over-turned.
Shavings saw all this with terror in his eyes and a cold clutch at his
heart. He knew the men in those boats would never go sealing again.

"Then his eyes fell on the mate, Olaf Olsen. The man appeared to be
petrified with fright. He made no move to do anything. Then something in
Shavings seemed to wake up.

"Perhaps that yellow hair of his was a survival of some old Viking
strain, or perhaps all those months of rough sea life had made him over
without his knowing it. But he seized the mate and shook him by the
shoulder:

"'Give an order, man!' he shouted. 'Order the sail reefed.'

"But the sight of the death of his shipmates had so unnerved the mate
that he could no nothing. Shavings kicked him disgustedly, and went
about the job himself. Clouds of spray burst over him. Time and again he
was within an inch of being swept overboard, but at last he had the sail
reefed down. Then he took the tiller and headed back for the schooner
across the immense seas through the screeching gale.

"He handled that boat skillfully, meeting the big seas and riding their
summits, only to be buried the next instant in the watery valley between
the giant combers. But always he rose. He had the cheering sight of the
schooner before him and it grew closer. The boat sailed more on her beam
than on her keel, but at last Shavings, more dead than alive, ran her in
under the lee of the schooner's hull, and willing hands got the
survivors out of the boat.

"The skipper of that craft was a rough man. He drove Olaf Olsen forward
with blows and curses and the strong Swede whimpered like a whipped cur.
Then he came aft to where the cook was giving Shavings and the rest hot
coffee.

"'Shavings,' he said, 'after this you're mate in that coward Olsen's
place. You're a man.'

"'No, sirree,' rejoined Shavings, 'I'm a farmer. No mate's job for me.
When we gets back ter home I'm goin' ter take my share uv ther catch and
buy a farm.'

"But he was finally persuaded to take the job of mate when his canny New
England mind grasped the fact that the mate's share of the profits is
much bigger than a foremast hand's. He was as good as his word, however,
and, when the _Janet Barry_, with her flag at half mast but her hold
full of fine skins, docked at St. Johns after the season was over,
Shavings drew his money and vani