nchor off the p'int?" added Christy,
not daring to call the steamer by her true name.

"That's jest where she is; and the West Wind is hitched to her, like a
tandem team," replied Bird Riley. "Look yere, Tom Bulger, you don't make
love to that bottle as though you meant business. Take another drink,
and show you done got some manhood in yer."

The bottle went the rounds again, and the guests apparently took long
pulls; but really they did not taste a drop of the infernal liquid.

"That's good pizen, Bird Riley; but it is not jest the stingo that I
like best," said Christy, as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve in
proper form, for he did not like the smell of the fluid lightning that
clung to his lips.

"Whiskey suits me most; but they waste the corn makin' bread on't, and
there ain't much on't left to make the staff of life. Howsomever, we
don't choke to death on apple-jack, when we can get enough on't," argued
Bird Riley.

"Jest now you got a tandem team hitched up out on the Trafladagar and
the West Wind," continued Christy cautiously, and with apparent
indifference, drawing the mate of the schooner back to the matter in
which he was the most deeply interested. "What's this team hitched up
that way for? Is the steamer go'n' to tow the schooner up to Mobile?"

"I reckon you're a little more'n half drunk, Tom Bulger," replied Bird
Riley, with a vigorous horse laugh. "Tow the schooner up to Mobile!
Didn't I tell yer the Trafladagar's been waiting here three days for a
good chance to run out?"

"You said that as true as you was born," added Graines, who thought it
necessary to say something, for he had been nearly silent from the
beginning.

"Sam Riley ain't quite so drunk as you be, Tom Bulger; an' he knows
what's what; and thar he shows the Riley blood in his carcass," chuckled
the mate.

"And you said the West Wind was loaded with cotton, in the hole and on
deck," added Graines, hoping to hurry the conference along a little more
rapidly.

"That's jest what I said. I reckon you ain't much used to apple-jack,
fur it fusticates your intelleck, and makes yer forget how old y'are.
Come, take another, jest to set your head up right," said Bird, passing
the bottle to Christy, who was doing his best to keep up the illusion by
talking very thick, and swaying his body about like a drunken man.

Both the guests went through the ceremony of imbibing, which was only a
ceremony to them. The fire had exhausted its suppl