wo hands were on their way to the floating
"poison-shop," as one of the men had named it. He was affectionately
received there, and, ere long, returned to the _White Cloud_ with a
supply of fire-water.

"You're good at a bargain, Brock," said his master, with an approving
nod, tossing off a glass of the demon that held him as if in chains of
steel--chains that no man could break. "I wish," he added, looking
round on the sea wistfully, "that some of our friends would come to join
us in a spree."

"So do I," said Brock, slightly inflaming his nasal pimples, by pouring
a glass of spirits down his throat.

There must be some strange, subtle sympathy between drunkards, for, at
the very time these two men expressed their wish, the master of the
_Evening Star_ said to Gunter, "Get out the boat. I'll go cruisin'."

It must not be supposed that by this he meant to declare his intention
of going off on a lengthened voyage in his little boat. David Bright
only meant that, having observed through his telescope the little
transaction between the _White Cloud_ and the Coper, his intention was
to pay that vessel a visit--to go carousing, or, as the North Sea
smacksmen have it, "cruisin'."

Gunter obeyed the order with satisfaction and alacrity.

"Jump in, Spivin, and you come too, Billy."

"I say, father," said the boy in a low voice, "are ye goin' to drink wi'
the Swab after what ye heard aboard the mission smack?"

"You clap a stopper on your jaw an' obey orders," replied the skipper
angrily.

Although full of light-hearted insolence, which his mates called cheek,
Billy was by no means a rebellious boy. He knew, from sad experience,
that when his father made up his mind to "go in for a drinking-bout,"
the consequences were often deplorable, and fain would he have dissuaded
him, but he also knew that to persist in opposing him would only make
matters worse, and probably bring severe chastisement on himself. With
an air of quiet gravity, therefore, that seemed very unnatural to him,
he leaped into the boat and took an oar.

"What cheer, David?" said the Swab, offering his rugged hand when the
former jumped on the deck of the _White Cloud_. "I thought you'd come."

"You was right, Dick," returned David, shaking the proffered hand.

"Come below, an' wet your whistle. Bring your men too," said Dick.
"This is a new hand?" pointing to Ned.

"Ay, he's noo, is Ned Spivin, but he can drink."

"Come down, then, all of