say you couldn't?"

"You told me to tallow something, sir."

"I didn't! Here, catch hold of the chalk and make a mark there against
every one that's rolled on board. Hallo, ugly! you're there then!"
continued the mate, suppressing a smile and addressing Bruff, who gave
him a sour look and went behind his master.

Mark took the chalk, and for the next half-hour he was busy checking the
barrels. This done there was a succession of boxes to be accounted for
in the same way, and after them a hundred sacks, the arrival of the
latter putting the mate in a furious passion.

"For two straws I wouldn't have them aboard," he roared. "They were to
have been delivered a week ago, and here are we kept waiting like this."

And still the vessel kept on swallowing up cargo, the riggers gave the
finishing touches to the vessel's ropes and sails, and the confusion
appeared to grow worse instead of better; but in spite of a low-spirited
sensation, Mark was fain to confess to himself that he had been
interested if not amused, when the least sailor-like man he had seen on
board came from the cabin-door and spoke to the mate, who gave a slight
nod, and the man went back.

The former individual then went to the big opening in the deck:

"Below! Morgan!" he shouted.

"Ahoy!" came from somewhere in the interior of the great vessel, and
directly after a pleasant, manly, brown face appeared above the steps.

"Take charge; I'm going to have some tea."

"All right! Who's this?"

"Skipper's cub," said the first-mate shortly. "Here, boy, come along."

The new arrival gave him a friendly nod, and Mark's first sensation was
that he would have preferred to stay with him, but the first-mate looked
back, and he followed quickly into the cabin, where the sight of a
comfortable meal, with clean cloth, and an appetising odour, changed the
current of his thoughts.

"Engines that work want coal and water," said the mate gruffly. "We've
been at work; let's coal. Sit down."

Mark obeyed, and Bruff crept under his seat.

"You've brought that dog with you, then?"

"He came, sir."

"Same thing. I hate dogs. Take off that cover."

Mark obeyed, and there was a steaming dish of fried steak and onions,
looking tempting in the extreme.

"Now, then, will you carve or be old woman?"

"I--I'll carve," said Mark, for though he had a suspicion that to be old
woman meant pouring out the tea, he was not sure.

"Go ahead, then, my lad. Pla