the 'hoodlums,' and discussing the wisdom of the
'Old Man' in standing so far to the south'ard.

Fog comes dense on us at Port Glasgow, and incoming steamers, looming
large on the narrowed horizon, steer sharply to the south to give us
water. Enveloped in the driving wraiths we hear the deep notes of
moving vessels, the clatter of bells on ships at anchor, and farther
down, loud over all, the siren at the Cloch, bellowing a warning of
thick weather beyond the Point. Sheering cautiously out of the
fairway, we come to anchor at Tail of the Bank to wait for our
'pier-head jumps.' At four in the afternoon, a launch comes off with
our recruits and our whipper-in explains his apparent delay.

"Hilt nor hair o' th' men that left ye hae I seen. I thocht I'd fin'
them at 'Dirty Dick's' when th' pubs opened ... but no, no' a sign: an'
a wheen tailor buddies wha cashed their advance notes huntin' high an'
low! I seen yin o' them ower by M'Lean Street wi' a nicht polis wi 'm
t' see he didna get a heid pit on 'm!--'_sss_! A pant! So I cam' doon
here, an' I hiv been lookin' for sailormen sin' ten o'clock. Man,
they'll no' gang in thae wind-jammers, wi' sae mony new steamers
speirin' hauns, an' new boats giein' twa ten fur th' run tae London....
Thir's th' only yins I can get, an' ye wadna get them, but that twa's
feart o' th' polis an' Jorgensen wants t' see th' month's advance o'
th' lang yin!"

The Captain eyes the men and demands of one:

"Been to sea before?"

"_Nach robh mhi_? Twa years I wass a 'bow rope' in the _I-on-a_, an' I
wass a wheelhouse in the Allan Line."

A glance at his discharges confirms his claim, slight as it is, to
seamanship, and Duncan M'Innes, of Sleat, in Skye, after being
cautioned as to his obligations, signs his name and goes forward.

Patrick Laughlin has considerable difficulty in explaining his absence
from the sea for two years, but the Captain, after listening to a long,
rambling statement... "i' th' yairds ... riggin' planks fur th'
rivitter boys.... Guid-brither a gaffer in Hamilton's, at the 'Poort'
... shoart time" ... gives a quick glance at the alleged seaman's
cropped head and winks solemnly at the Shipping-master, who is signing
the men on. Hands being so scarce, however, Patrick is allowed to
touch the pen.

One glance at the third suffices. Blue eyes and light colourless hair,
high cheek-bones and lithe limbs, mark the Scandinavian. Strong, wiry
fingers and an indes