retorted Tom; "and I should like to know what
the dickens you mean by going snoozing in my bunk? I've half a mind to
punch your head. The next time I catch you at it I'll keelhaul you,
Master Sammy, by Jupiter!"

Jerrold kept on grumbling away, pretending to be very angry; and he
frightened Weeks so that he forgot the ugly knock he had received on his
own head, and apologised abjectly for the offence he had committed. Tom
then allowed his assumed indignation to pass away, and forgave him on
the condition that he took away all the spare crockery ware, which the
steward had stowed in the top bunk of the deck-house, into the cuddy,
giving it to the Portuguese with his, Tom's, compliments.

Weeks thereupon proceeded to execute this mission, Jerrold and I
awaiting the result with much anticipated enjoyment, Tom saying to me
confidentially as he started for the cuddy, "Won't Pedro carry-on at
him! I wouldn't be in the young fool's shoes for something."

The denouement justified our expectations; for, no sooner had Weeks
entered the passage way than he came flying out again looking awfully
scared, a tremendous crash following as if all the crockery ware was
pitched after him, bang! Next, we heard Pedro swearing away in his
native tongue, and kicking his preserved meat tins about his pantry at
such a rate that Captain Gillespie sang out on the poop above, and sent
Matthews down the companion to find out what he was making all the row
about. This finally quieted the steward down, but subdued mutterings
came to our ears from the cuddy for long afterwards, Pedro never having
been so roused up before, not even when Tim Rooney tackled him on the
previous day.

Weeks got very angry on our laughing at him when he returned crestfallen
to the deck-house, and he went off forwards in high dudgeon; but this
did not make any difference to us, we being rather pleased at getting
rid of his company--at least I was, for one. So we went on arranging
the chests and things in the little cabin until we ultimately made it
quite ship-shape and comfortable. As Jerrold had proposed, he had his
chest on one side of the doorway and mine and Weeks's were now stowed
alongside our bunks, just sufficient space and no more being left for us
to open them without having to shift them, and also to get in and out of
the cabin.

"Be jabers ye've made a tidy job av it, lads," said the boatswain,
coming up as we finished, and surveying approvingly our a