m not going to have my deck turned into a
kennel, so you'd better take your dog ashore."

Mark stood staring as the mate walked away to give some orders in an
angry tone to another gang of sailors working aft. Then he shouted a
command to some men busy in the rigging; while, when Mark turned his
head, it was to find Billy Widgeon patting the dog, and smiling up at
him.

"He's a bit waxy to-day. Just going outer dock into the river, and
there's a lot o' work to be done."

"But I thought my father was captain of this ship?" said Mark.

"So he is, youngster, but old Greg does what he likes when the skipper
aren't aboard. Oh, here is the skipper!"

"Ah! Mark, my lad, here you are then. So you've brought the dog?"

"Yes, father, and--"

"Where's Mr Gregory?"

"Over yonder, sir," said Billy Widgeon. "Pst!" he whispered to Mark,
"say somewhat about the dog."

"Do you want him to stay then?" said Mark.

"Stop! Sartin I do. Why, theer'll be him and old Jack, and they'll
have no end of a game aboard when theer's a calm. There, the skipper's
gone to old Greg, and you aren't said a word."

"But I will," said Mark. "Who is Jack?"

"Who is Jack! Why, I thought every one knowed who Jack is. Our big
monkey. He's tucked up somewhere 'cause it's cold. You wait till the
sun's out."

"Well, Captain Strong, I object to dogs and cats on board ship."

"They are no worse than monkeys."

"A deal, sir, and I object to them."

"Nonsense, Gregory!" said Captain Strong persuasively. "The boy's only
going as far as Penzance, and he loves his dog."

"Can't help that, sir. Dogs are no addition to a crew."

"Not a bit, Gregory. Neither are monkeys; but, to oblige me--"

"Oh very well, captain, if it's to oblige you, I have no more to say,
and the dog can stop."

"Hear that, youngster?" said Billy.

It was plainly audible to half the deck; and as Mark nodded his head he
fell a-wondering how it was that his father, who was captain, could
allow his inferior officer to be so dictatorial and to bully every one
about him.

"It's all right," said Billy Widgeon, with a confidential wink and a
smile; "he's going to let him stop."

This was another puzzle for Mark, but he kept his thoughts to himself.

"Look here--where are you going to stow him?" continued the little
sailor, speaking of the dog as if he were a box or bale.

"Keep him with me," replied the lad.

"But you'll want a place for him somewheres. You