mble up there!"

With every order came a stride forward and a correspondingly backward
movement on the part of the three. The performance would have been
ridiculous if Pearson had not feared that it might become tragic. He was
descending the steps to his new acquaintance's aid, when there rose a
chorus of shouts from the wharf.

"The cops! the cops! Look out!"

That was the finishing touch. The next moment the three "mutineers" were
over the side and running as fast as their alcoholic condition would
permit down the wharf.

"Well, by George!" exclaimed Pearson.

Captain Elisha seemed to be coming out of a dream. He stood still, drew
his hand across his forehead, and then began to laugh.

"Well!" he stammered. "Well, I snum! I--I--Mr. Pearson, I wonder what on
earth you must think of me. I declare the sight of that gang set me back
about twenty years. They--they must have thought I was the new skipper!
Did you hear me tell 'em they couldn't mutiny aboard of me? Ho! ho!
Well, I am an old idiot!"

Pearson stuck his fist into the palm of his other hand. "I've got it!"
he cried. "I knew your name was familiar. Why, you're the mate that
handled the mutinous crew aboard Uncle Jim's bark, the _Pacer_, off
Mauritius, in the typhoon, when he was hurt and in the cabin. I've heard
him tell it a dozen times. Well, this _is_ a lucky day for me!"

Captain Elisha was evidently pleased. "So he told you that, did he?" he
began. "That _was_ a time and a half, I--"

He was interrupted. Over the rail appeared a blue helmet, and an instant
later a big and very pompous police officer leaped to the deck. He was
followed by the wharf watchman, who looked frightened.

"Where's the other one of them?" demanded the policeman. "Oh, it's you,
is it? Well, you're too old to be gettin' drunk and fightin'. Come along
now, peaceable, and let's have no words about it."

He advanced and laid a hand on the captain's arm.

"You're under arrest," he announced. "Will you come along quiet?"

"I'm under arrest?" repeated Captain Elisha. "Under--My soul and body!
Why, I ain't done anything."

"Yes, I know. Nobody's done nothin'. Come on, or shall I--Hello, Mr.
Pearson, sir! How d'you do?"

Pearson had stepped forward.

"Slattery," he said, "you've made a mistake. Let me tell you about
it." He drew the officer aside and whispered in his ear. After a rather
lengthy conversation, the guardian of the peace turned to the watchman.

"What d'you me