f you does the best he can for hisself
after eleven, an' the one what gets to Poole first has the ten quid.
Understand?"

Both gamblers breathed hard, and, fully realising the desperate nature
of the enterprise upon which they had embarked, ordered some more gin. A
rivalry of long standing as to the merits of their respective schooners
had led to them calling in the landlord to arbitrate, and this was the
result. Berrow, vaguely feeling that it would be advisable to keep on
good terms with the stakeholder, offered him one of the famous cigars.
The stakeholder, anxious to keep on good terms with his stomach,
declined it.

"You've both got your moorings up, I s'pose?" he inquired.

"Got 'em up this evening," replied Tucker. "We're just made fast one on
each side of the Dolphin now."

"The wind's light, but it's from the right quarter," said Captain
Berrow, "an' I only hope as 'ow the best ship'll win. I'd like to win
myself, but, if not, I can only say as there's no man breathing I'd
sooner have lick me than Cap'n Tucker. He's as smart a seaman as ever
comes into the London river, an' he's got a schooner angels would be
proud of."

"Glasses o' gin round," said Tucker promptly. "Cap'n Berrow, here's your
very good health, an' a fair field an' no favour."

With these praiseworthy sentiments the master of the Thistle finished
his liquor, and, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, nodded
farewell to the twain and departed. Once in the High Street he walked
slowly, as one in deep thought, then, with a sudden resolution, turned
up Nightingale Lane, and made for a small, unsavoury thoroughfare
leading out of Ratcliff Highway. A quarter of an hour later he emerged
into that famous thoroughfare again, smiling incoherently, and,
retracing his steps to the waterside, jumped into a boat, and was pulled
off to his ship.

"Comes off to-night, Joe," said he, as he descended to the cabin, "an'
it's arf a quid to you if the old gal wins."

"What's the bet?" inquired the mate, looking up from his task of
shredding tobacco.

"Five quid," replied the skipper.

"Well, we ought to do it," said the mate slowly; "'t wont be my fault if
we don't."

"Mine neither," said the skipper. "As a matter o' fact, Joe, I reckon
I've about made sure of it. All's fair in love and war and racing, Joe."

"Ay, ay," said the mate, more slowly than before, as he revolved this
addition to the proverb.

"I just nipped round and saw a chap I use