e 'ear you call me Ben ag'in and you'll hear of it," said the
other, sharply. "Go and clean the brasswork."

The youth strolled off, gasping, with an envious glance at the cook,
who, standing just inside the galley, cheerfully flaunted a saucepan he
was cleaning, as though defying the mate to find _him_ any work to do.

"Bill," said the mate.

"Sir," said the polite seaman.

"Help Joe scrub paintwork," was the reply.

"Me!" broke in the indignant Joe.

"Scrub--Look 'ere, Ben."

"Pore old Joe," said the cook, who had not forgiven him for the previous
night's affair. "Pore old Joe."

"Don't stand gaping about," commanded the new mate. "Liven up there."

"It don't want cleaning. I won't do it," said Joe, fiercely.

"I've give my orders," said the new mate, severely; "if they ain't
attended to, or if I 'ear any more about not doing 'em, you'll hear of
it. The idea o' telling me you won't do it. The idea o' setting such an
example to the young 'uns. The idea--Wot are you making that face for?"

"I've got the earache," retorted Joe, with bitter sarcasm.

"I thought you would 'ave, Joe," said the vengeful cook, retiring behind
a huge frying-pan, "when I 'eard you singing this morning."

Fraser, coming on deck, was just in time to see a really creditable
imitation of a famous sculpture as represented by Joe, Tim, and Ben, but
his criticism was so sharp and destructive that the group at once broke
and never re-formed. Indeed, with a common foe in the person of Ben, the
crew adjusted their own differences, and by the time Seabridge was in
sight were united by all the fearful obligations of a secret society of
which Joe was the perpetual president.

Captain Barber, with as much mourning as he could muster at such short
notice, was waiting on the quay. His weather-beaten face was not quite
so ruddy as usual, and Fraser, with a strong sense of shame, fancied,
as the old man clambered aboard the schooner, that his movements were
slower than of yore.

"This is a dreadful business, Jack," he said, giving him a hearty grip,
when at length he stood aboard the schooner.

"Shocking," said Fraser, reddening.

"I've spoken to have the coast-guards look out for him," said the old
man. "He may come ashore, and I know he'd be pleased to be put in the
churchyard decent."

"I'm sure he would," said Fraser. "I suppose there's no chance of his
having been picked up. I slung a life-belt overboard."

Captain Barber shook his he