e could hardly
retain his hold.

"That will do, Widgeon," said the captain, wiping his eyes. "Here,
Mark, make that dog friends with him."

"Here, give me the umbrella," said the lad.

"Nay, if I do you'll let him go at me," said the sailor doubtingly.

"Nonsense, man! Give him the umbrella," cried the captain.

The sailor obeyed; and as Mark took it he held it down before the dog,
and then returned it to its owner.

Bruff did not say "All right!" but he gave three pats on the oil-cloth
with his long bushy tail, a sign that he accepted the position, and then
he was allowed to get up.

"Who's afeard!" cried Billy Widgeon, looking from one to the other. "I
say, I was too many for him, sir."

"Yes," said the captain; "and what about my Indian jar?"

"Ah! that was the dog's fault, cap'n," said the man earnestly.

"Dog's fault!" said Captain Strong. "You knocked it down and broke it,
and I shall stop the cost out of your pay."

Billy Widgeon stood for a moment looking solemn. Then, as if he had
suddenly been engaged as a dentist's specimen, he bared all his fine
white teeth in the broadest of broad grins.

"Nay, skipper," he said, "you wouldn't do that. Me and my shipmets
wouldn't want to make another v'yge with you if you was that sort o'
capt'n. I'll buy you another one when we gets to Chany. Here's off!"

He nodded to all in turn, went out of the door, rattled his umbrella on
the iron railings in front, making Bruff utter a low discontented growl,
and then, as the door was closed, the growl became a deeply-drawn breath
like a sigh, while putting his nose to the crack at the bottom, he stood
with his ears twitching, giving forth a faint whine now and then,
apparently not quite satisfied as to whether he had done his duty, and
uneasy in his mind about that umbrella. "You will have to be careful
with that dog, Mark," said the captain. "He must be tamed down, or we
shall have worse mischief than a broken jar."

"He thought the man was stealing the umbrella," pleaded Mark on behalf
of his favourite.

"Then he must be taught to think sensibly, my lad. Billy Widgeon's one
of my best fore-mast men, and I can't afford to have my sailors used to
feed your dog."

"You're joking, father."

"Ah! but that would be no joke," said the captain. "I should not
approve of his devouring the lowest and most worthless class of tramp,
or a savage; but when it comes to sailors--"

"What nonsense, father!" cried