s that "rich lay" they had spoken to Newman
about. But what had I to do with it? How could I crab their game? I
began to think there was something besides loose talk in these hints of
revenge and loot the pair were dropping in the foc'sle.

I guess Boston knew my suspicions must be aroused, and thought it time
to sound my sentiments. Also, as it turned out, he wanted to pump me
regarding Newman. I was Newman's one close friend, and Boston must
have thought I knew something of the big man's intentions.

Anyway, after supper that evening, as I was sitting on the forehatch,
whittling away at a model of the _Golden Bough_ I was making, Boston
came and sat down beside me.

"Should think you'd be so fed up with this hooker, you wouldn't want
any model of her," he remarked, by way of opening a conversation.

"She's a bonny ship," I told him. "It is not the ship, it is the men
in her. You'll never see a better craft than the _Golden Bough_,
Boston."

"_Faugh_!" he snorted, and followed with a blistering curse. "Blast
your pretty ships! I'd like to see this old hooker go on the rocks, by
God I would! Well--maybe I will see her finish, eh?"

I glanced at him sidewise, and discovered he was likewise regarding me,
with the lids drawn over his pale eyes till they were mere slits. I
didn't like Boston's eyes. For that matter, I didn't like anything
about Boston. But I was interested; I sensed this was no idle talk.
There was something behind the words.

"Small chance of your seeing her finish," I said. "As well found a
ship as there is afloat--and you may call the Old Man and his buckos
what you will, but they are sailormen."

"I've heard of ships sinking in storms," says he.

"You talk like the stiff you are," I scoffed. "Show me the weather
that will drown the _Golden Bough_, with good sailors aft! Besides,
Boston, we're not likely to have any bad weather, for which you can say
a prayer of thanks, for you stiffs would catch it if we did pick up a
decent blow."

"Why not?" he asked.

"It's a fair weather passage," I explained. "These trades will blow us
clean across one hundred and eighty, into the sou'west monsoon, and
with luck that'll carry us into the China Sea. Of course, there is
always the chance of meeting a hurricane this side, or a typhoon on the
other side. You'll squeal if we do, I bet!"

Says he, "Well, now how about running on a rock? We'll be going among
islands, _hey_? These South