in practical command of the ship. His life, the lives of
those oilskin-clad figures he saw lounging forward, all the lives on
the ship, were in her hand, dependent upon her skill. Mate! He had
never heard----

"You seem rather surprised," she rallied him. "I see disapproval in
your face. But I assure you, I am a very good mate. I even have a
master's ticket."

Martin stuttered in his confusion and tangled himself in a web of
denial. Then came a blessed interruption. Up through the companion
hatch, to which he still clung, arose a white head, and then the man.
It was the serene-faced old man who had passed him by in the cabin.

"The captain!" announced the beskirted mate. "Captain, here is Mr.
Blake--Mr. Blake, meet Captain Dabney."

The old man stepped out on deck and turned his head about uncertainly.
His hand wandered an instant, and then met Martin's. His face wreathed
in a cordial smile.

"Glad to meet you, lad," he said.

Martin found himself without words. He was fascinated by the captain's
eyes, those serene, blue eyes that stared at him without seeing him.
Captain Dabney was blind.

CHAPTER VIII

AROUND THE CABIN TABLE

Martin lounged upon the divan, on edge with impatience, his attention
divided between the faces of his companions and the face of the clock
hanging on the forward bulkhead. The two big lamps, upright in their
gimbals, shed a warm, bright glow about the cabin.

The supper remains had disappeared. Little Billy was completing his
steward's task by spreading over the table the damask cloth that graced
the board between meals. The blind captain sat in a chair, quietly
puffing a pipe. The clock showed a quarter of eight. At eight
o'clock, eight bells would strike overhead, the bosun would relieve the
mate, the mate would come below, and then his burning curiosity was
promised satisfaction.

The mate! Martin's thoughts buzzed around the girl like a moth around
a candle-flame. Not yet could he reconcile Ruth with her duties as
ship's first officer. It seemed so absurd. She and the giant bosun
divided the watches between them. What an ill-assorted brace! And she
was the superior. She was the right arm, and the eyes of the old blind
man. Oh, she was a proper sailor, right enough!

Yes, she had set the t'gal'n's'l and shaken the reef out of the
mains'l. He knew now what she had meant.

What a superb figure she was, standing there on the windswept deck,
singin