ly hid 'm in
Rue-en' Street ... wi' ma crood aboot,"--kicking savagely at a coil of
rope--"he widna be sae smert wi' 'is fit! Goad, no!"

"Ye' fust win'-jammer, eh?" said Cockney pleasantly. "Oh well--ye'll
l'arn a lot! Blimy, ye'll l'arn a lot before ye sees Rue-hend Street
again. An' look 'ere!"--as if it were a small matter--"if ye cawn't
steer th' bloomin' ship afore we clears th' bloomin' Channel, ye kin
count _hon_ me fer a bloomin' good 'idin'! I ain't agoin' t' take no
other bloomin' bloke's w'eel! Not much, I ain't!"

"Nor me!" "Nor me!" said the others, and Wee Laughlin, looking round at
the ring of threatening faces, realised that he was up against a
greater power than the Officer tramping the poop beyond.

"Wull ye no'?" he said, spitting with a great show of bravery. "Wull
ye no'? Mebbe I'll hae sumthin' t' say aboot th' hidin'.... An' ye'll
hae twa av us tae hide whin ye're a' it. I'm nut th' only yin.
There's the Hielan'man ... him wi' th' fush scales on's oilskins. He
nivvir wis in a win'-jammer afore, he telt me; an'----"

"An' whaat eef I nefer wass in a win'-chammer pefore?" M'Innes, quick
to anger, added another lowering face to the group. "Wait you till I
am sent awaay from th' wheel ... an' thaat iss not yet, no! ...
Hielan'man? ... Hielan'man? ... Tamm you, I wass steerin' by th' win'
pefore you wass porn, aye! ... An' aal t' time you wass in chail,
yess!"

In the face of further enmity, Wee Laughlin said no more, preferring to
gaze darkly at the unknowing Mate, while his lips made strange
formations--excess of thought! The others, with a few further
threats--a word or two about 'hoodlums' and 'them wot signed for a
man's wage, an' couldn't do a man's work'--returned to their short
dog-watch pacings, two and two, talking together of former voyages and
the way of things on their last ships.

We were in the North Channel, one day out, with the Mull of Cantyre
just lost to view. The light wind that had carried us out to the Firth
had worked to the westward, to rain and misty weather, and all day we
had been working ship in sight of the Irish coast, making little
headway against the wind. It was dreary work, this laggard setting
out--hanging about the land, tack and tack, instead of trimming yards
to a run down Channel. Out on the open sea we could perforce be
philosophic, and talk of 'the more days, the more dollars'; but here in
crowded waters, with the high crown of Inni