g a stock of oranges, and tossed a quarter to the tall, black-eyed
boatman, whose embroidered jacket, brown handsome face, and round flat
hat with a jaunty cockade on one side of it, made a very striking
picture. The Spaniard rang it on a knife-blade, tested it with a hard
bite from his strong white teeth, and then tied it up in the
handkerchief around his head, with a bow and a "Gracias, senor" (thanks,
sir), worthy of any grandee in Spain.

"What a fine fellow!" cried Frank, enthusiastically.

"Ay, ain't he?" growled an old tar who overheard him. "If I'd a loose
tooth in my head, I'd yank it out 'fore comin' here, for fear some o'
them 'fine fellers' ud steal it!"

"You don't say!"

"Fact; and that's why we never let none on 'em aboard. I guess the old
sayin's true enough, 'The Spanish wines steals all heads, the Spanish
women steals all hearts, and the Spanish men steals everything.'"

The captain, purser, and doctor had gone ashore with the ship's papers;
but to the no small dismay of the crew (who had expected a long stay in
port) a signal was suddenly reported to "up anchor" at once. So the
chain-cable was passed around the capstan, the bars manned (for the
convenient fashion of getting up the anchor by steam was not yet adopted
by the _Arizona_), and to work they went.

The slack of the chain came in easily enough; but to "break" the anchor
out of the mud was a harder matter. Up came more men--up came even the
"trimmers and heavers" from the engine-room; the bars bent with the
pressure of six sturdy fellows apiece, but the anchor never budged. The
perspiration rolled down the bronzed faces of the sailors, and their
brawny chests heaved like bellows with the strain; but all to no
purpose.

Suddenly a "flaw" of wind made the vessel heel, bringing more pressure
on the chain. The crew made a desperate effort, and seemed about to
conquer, when snap went a bar. The capstan spun back, the men were
dashed along the deck like nine-pins, and one poor fellow, jammed
between the chain and the hawse-pipe, had his hand cut in two as if by
an axe.

"Hello, Yankee Doodle!" shouted a voice from the British ship, "can't
git up yer mud-hook, eh? Shall we send a boy down to lift it for yer?"

Frank's eyes flashed fire at the taunt, and the roar of laughter that
followed. Forgetting everything in the passion of the moment, he sprang
upon the capstan, and shouted:

"Mates, are we going to let that Britisher laugh at us? No