ps of wreck-wood and adze cuttings from a lugger on the
stacks.

"Now then," he said, after carefully stuffing the damaged hole with
oakum, "this ought to keep the inside dry, on'y the worst on it is that
the pitch won't stick well to where the wood's wet."

"But you're not going to pour all that in?"

"I just am," said Tom, with a chuckle. "I arn't going to spyle a ship
for the sake of a ha'porth o' tar. There we are," he continued,
spreading the melted pitch all over the patch with a thin piece of wood
till, as it cooled, it formed a fairly level surface ready for the
pieces of planking intended to form the outside skin.

Tom was a very slow worker, but very sure, and a couple more hours
glided by and the sun had long set with the boat still not finished. So
slow had the repairing been that at last Aleck expressed his
dissatisfaction; but Tom only grinned.

"I know what water is, sir, and how it'll get through holes. I don't
want for us to go to the bottom, no more'n I want us both to be allus
baling. Didn't I say as it would take me till dark?"

"You did, Tom, but you needn't drive in quite so many nails. This is
only temporary work."

"Tempry or not tempry, I want it to last till we gets home."

"Of course," said Aleck, and to calm his impatience he turned to look at
the group of fishermen, who sat and stood about, smoking away, and for
the first time the lad noticed that the men had ceased to watch Tom
Bodger but had their eyes fixed intently upon the sloop-of-war and the
cutter, which lay at anchor a couple of miles from the harbour, and were
now showing their riding lights.

"'Bout done, arn't yer, Tommy?" said the man who was mending the fire.

"Nay, keep the pitch hot, messmet," said Tom. "I'll just pay her over
inside as soon as we've got her turned right again."

"Then that's going to be now, arn't it, matey?" said the big fisherman.

"Yes," said Tom, to Aleck's great satisfaction. "Lend a hand, some on
yer."

The words seemed to galvanise the group into action, twice as many men
offering to help as were needed, and in another few minutes, to the
owner's delight, the boat was turned over, with the iron-plated keel
settling down in the fine shingle and the rough inner workmanship
showing in the dim twilight.

"Now," cried Tom, "just that drop o' pitch. Power it in, messmet.
That's your sort. It'll soon cool. Now, then, I'll just stick a bit or
two of board acrorst there, Master Alec