he had
just smoked out.

"Not a bit of it," remarked Amos Parr, who was squatted on the deck
busily engaged in constructing a rope mat, while several of the men sat
round him engaged in mending sails, or stitching canvas slippers,
etc.--"not a bit of it, Grim; Dumps is too honest by half to do sich a
thing. 'Twas Poker as did it, I can see by the roll of his eye below the
skin. The blackguard's only shammin' sleep."

On hearing his name mentioned, Poker gently opened his right eye, but
did not move. Dumps, on the contrary, lay as if he heard not the base
aspersion on his character.

"What'll ye bet it was Dumps as did it?" cried Davie Summers, who passed
at the moment with a dish of some sort of edible towards the galley or
cooking-house on deck.

"I'll _bet_ you over the 'ead, I will, if you don't mind your business,"
said Mivins.

"You'd _better_ not," retorted Davie with a grin. "It's as much as your
situation's worth to lay a finger on me."

"That's it, youngster, give it 'im," cried several of the men, while the
boy confronted his superior, taking good care, however, to keep the
fore-mast between them.

"What do you mean, you young rascal?" cried Mivins with a frown.

"Mean!" said Davie, "why, I mean that if you touch me I'll resign
office; and if I do that, you'll have to go out, for every one knows you
can't get on without me."

"I say, Mivins," cried Tom Green, the carpenter's mate, "if you were
asked to say, '_H_old on _h_ard to this _h_andspike _h_ere, my
_h_earties,' how would ye go about it?"

"He'd 'it you a pretty 'ard crack _h_over the 'ead with it, 'e would,"
remarked one of the men, throwing a ball of yarn at Davie, who stood
listening to the conversation with a broad grin.

In stepping back to avoid the blow, the lad trod on Dumps's paw, and
instantly there came from the throat of that excellent dog a roar of
anguish that caused Poker to leap, as the cook expressed it, nearly out
of his own skin. Dogs are by nature extremely sympathetic and remarkably
inquisitive; and no sooner was Dumps's yell heard than it was vigorously
responded to by every dog in the ship, as the whole pack rushed each
from his respective sleeping-place and looked round in amazement.

"Hallo! what's wrong there for'ard?" inquired Saunders, who had been
pacing the quarter-deck with slow giant strides, arguing mentally with
himself in default of a better adversary.

"Only trod on Dumps's paw, sir," said Mivins, as