ion! Overhaul her and take her in tow. I'd
rather pay a million salvage than navigate her another cable's length."

"'Don't give up the ship!'" "'Never say die!'" "Belay, man, belay!" were
the words hurled back until Peggy crying:

"You boys are the very limit!" pressed one knee against Shashai's side
and said softly: "Four Bells, Shashai."

Robin Adair was no match for Shashai. Robin was as good a hackney as
rider ever bestrode, but Shashai was a thoroughbred hunter with an Arab
strain. Ten mighty bounds took him to Robin's head and for Peggy to
swing far out of her saddle, grasp the dangling reins, speak the word of
command which all her horses knew, loved and obeyed, took less time than
it has taken to write of it.

"One Bell, Shashai. Robin, halt! Steady!" and Jean Paul's mount came to
a standstill with Jean Paul sitting upon its haunches, and Jean Paul's
eyes snapping, and Jean Paul's teeth biting his tongue to keep from
uttering words "unbecoming an officer and a gentleman;" for "being
overhauled by a girl" after he had "made a confounded fool of himself
trying a land-lubber's stunt" was not a role which seemed in any degree
an edifying one to him.

To her credit be it said, Peggy managed to keep a straight face as she
turned to look at her disgruntled guest, which was more than could be
said of his companions who came crowding upon him, even Polly's
self-control being taxed beyond the limit.

"Why didn't you tell me you'd never ridden?" asked Peggy, her lips sober
but her eyes dancing.

"Because it would have knocked the whole show on the head," answered
Jean, yanking himself forward into the saddle which only a moment before
had seemed to be in forty places at once.

"So you decided to be the whole show yourself instead! You're a dead
game sport, Commodore. Bully for you!" cried Durand, slipping from his
mount to examine the "rigging of the Commodore's craft."

"Do you want to try it again?" asked Polly.

"Will a fish swim?" answered Jean. "Do you think I'm going to let this
side-wheeler shipwreck me? Not on your life, Captain. Clear out, the
whole bunch of you chumps. If I've got to cross the equator I'll have
the escort of ladies, not a bunch of rough-necks. Beat it! You let a
_girl_ overhaul and slow down this cruiser and now you're all ready to
come in for a share of the salvage. Get out! Clear out! Beat it! Take
'em away, Captain, and leave me the Admiral. She can give everyone of
you the lead b