y an' we're hungry. Jawn D. Rockerfeller'd
give a million dollars for my appetite. Fry mine hard, Scraggsy.
I want somethin' solid."

Scraggs looked up and his cold green eyes were agleam with malice
and triumph as they rested on the unhappy pair. However, he
smiled--a smile reminiscent of a cat that has just eaten a
canary--and cold chills ran down the backs of the exhausted
travellers. "Hello, boys," he piped. He turned from them to toss
a few strips of bacon into the grease with the eggs; then he
peered into the coffee pot and set it on the back of the galley
range to simmer, before facing his guests again. His attitude was
so significant that Mr. Gibney queried mournfully:

"Well, Phineas, you old vegetable hound, ain't you glad to see
us?"

"Certainly, Gib, certainly. I'm deeply appreciative of the honour
o' this visit, although I'm free to say we're hardly prepared for
company. The stores is kind o' low an' I did just figger on
havin' enough, by skimpin' a little, to last me an' my crew until
we get back to San Francisco. I'd hate to put 'em on short
rations, on account of unexpected company, because it gives the
ship a bad name. On the other hand, it's agin my disposition to
appear small over a few fried eggs, while on still another hand,
I realize you two got to get fed." He stepped to the door and
pointed. "See that little shack about two points to starboard o'
the warehouse? Well, there's a Dago livin' there an' he'll fix
you two boys up a bully meal for fifty cents each."

"Scraggsy, ol' hunks, if three-ringed circuses was sellin' for
six bits a throw me an' Bart couldn't buy a whisker from a dead
tiger." The dreadful admission brought a dull flush to Mr.
Gibney's already rubicund countenance.

"Shell out a coupler bucks, Scraggsy," McGuffey pleaded. "Me an'
Gib's so empty we rattle when we walk."

"I ain't got no money to loan you two that ups an leaves me in
the lurch, without no notice," Scraggs flared at them. "If you
two stiffs ain't able to support yourselves you'd ought to apply
for admission to the poorhouse or the Home For the Feeble-minded."

Mr. Gibney smiled fatly. "Scraggsy! You're kiddin' us."

"Not by forty fathom, I ain't."

"Phineas, we just _got_ t' eat," McGuffey declared ominously.

"Eat an' be dog-goned," the skipper snarled. "I ain't a-tryin' to
prevent you. Are you two suckin' infants that I got to _feed_
you? There's plenty o' fresh vegetables out on deck. Green peas
ain