ut I know they're your men."

"Sam!" roared the skipper, with a sinking heart, as his glance fell on
the recumbent figures in the boat; "come aboard at once, you drunken
disgrace! D'ye hear?"

"I can't leave him," said Sam, whimpering.

"Leave who?" growled the skipper.

"Him," said Sam, placing his arms round the waterman's neck. "Him an'
me's like brothers."

"Get up, you old loonatic!" snarled the waterman, extricating himself
with difficulty, and forcing the other towards the side. "Now, up you
go!"

Aided by the shoulders of the waterman and the hands of his superior
officers, Sam went up, and then the waterman turned his attention to the
remainder of his fares, who were snoring contentedly in the bottom of
the boat.

"Now, then!" he cried; "look alive with you! D'ye hear? Wake up! Wake
up! Kick 'em, Bill!"

"I can't kick no 'arder," grumbled the other waterman.

"What the devil's the matter with 'em?" stormed the master of the
Thistle, "Chuck a pail of water over 'em, Joe!"

Joe obeyed with gusto; and, as he never had much of a head for details,
bestowed most of it upon the watermen. Through the row which ensued the
Thistle's crew snored peacefully, and at last were handed up over the
sides like sacks of potatoes, and the indignant watermen pulled back to
the stairs.

"Here's a nice crew to win a race with!" wailed the skipper, almost
crying with rage. "Chuck the water over 'em, Joe! Chuck the water over
'em!"

Joe obeyed willingly, until at length, to the skipper's great relief,
one man stirred, and, sitting up on the deck, sleepily expressed his
firm conviction that it was raining. For a moment they both had hopes
of him, but as Joe went to the side for another bucketful, he evidently
came to the conclusion that he had been dreaming, and, lying down again,
resumed his nap. As he did so the first stroke of Big Ben came booming
down the river.

"Eleven o'clock!" shouted the excited skipper.

It was too true. Before Big Ben had finished, the neighbouring church
clocks commenced striking with feverish haste, and hurrying feet and
hoarse cries were heard proceeding from the deck of the GOOD INTENT.

"Loose the sails!" yelled the furious Tucker. "Loose the sails! Damme,
we'll get under way by ourselves!"

He ran forward, and, assisted by the mate, hoisted the jibs, and then,
running back, cast off from the brig, and began to hoist the mainsail.
As they disengaged themselves from the tier, there w