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"She'll get skipper's share if I have to lick every hand aboard!"

growled Ellinwood. "An' you can rest easy on that."

"That's fine," said Code gently; "and I don't know what I'd do

without you, Pete."

"You ain't supposed to do without me. What in thunder do you

suppose I shipped with you fer if it wasn't to look after you,

hey?"

The men had finished dressing down and were cleaning up the

decks. Several of them, noticing that something momentous was

being discussed, were edging nearer. Pete observed this.

"Skipper," he said, "we've got four or five shots of trawl-line

to pick. Suppose you and I go out an' do the job? Then we can

talk in peace. Feel able?"

"Never better in my life. Get my dory over."

"That blue one? Never again! That's bad luck fer you. Take mine."

"All right. Anything you say."