sky. Forking out, however, directly over where I clung desperately to
the wet hawser, my eyes were able to trace the bow-sprit, a massive
bit of timber, with ropes faintly traced against the sky, the rather
loosely furled jib flapping ragged edges in the gusts of wind.
Suddenly, as I stared upward, I became aware that two men were working
their way out along the foot-ropes, and, as they reached a point
almost directly over my head, became busily engaged in tightening the
gaskets to better secure the loosening sail. The foot of one slipped,
and he hung dangling, giving vent to a stiff English oath before he
succeeded in hauling himself back to safety, The other indulged in a
chuckling laugh, yet was careful not to speak loudly.

"Had one drink too many, Tom?" he asked. "That will pay yer fer
finishin' the bottle, an' never givin' me another sup."

The other growled, evidently not in any too good humor after his
mishap.

"You, hell! Yer bed the fu'st ov it. Thar's no sorter luck yer don't
git yer fair share of, Bill Haines--trust yer fer thet. What I ain't
got straight yet, is whar thet stuff cum from so easy. Thet wus the
real thing."

Haines laughed again, working carelessly. As the men advanced along
the spar I could distinguish their forms more clearly.

"That wus part o' the luck, Tom," he acknowledged, his accent that of
a cockney. "Did yer git eyes on thet new feller Manuel Estevan brought
back with him in the boat?"

"The one you and Jose carried aboard?"

"He's the lad. Thar wa'n't nuthin' the matter with the cove, 'cept he
wus dead drunk, an' he hed a bottle o' rum stowed away in every
pocket. But Manuel, he never knew thet. It wus just 'bout dark when he
cum staggerin' down ter the boat. We wus waitin' on the beach fer
Estevan, an' three fellers he hed taken along with him inter town, ter
cum back--the nigger, Jose, an' me--when this yere chap hove
'longside. He never hailed us, ner nuthin'; just clim over inter the
boat, an' lay down. 'Whar ye aimin' ter go, friend?' ses I, but by
then the cove wus dead asleep. I shook him, an' kicked him, but it
wa'n't no use; so we just left him lie thar fer Manuel ter say whut
wus ter be done with him. Only Jose he went thru his pockets, an'
found three bottles o' rum. We took a few drinks, an' hid whut wus
left in the boat locker."

"So that's how yer got it! Who wus the party?"

"Thet's mor'n I'll ever tell yer. I never got no sight o' him, 'cept
in the dark.