" Arthur had something of a fishy look and a slick way with
him; but he was a good cook.
"It seems funny to call such a kid 'Cap'n,'" he said. And then he
added apologetically, "It's 'cause I've sailed under so many grayheads,
ye know."
"Oh, I'll be gray enough before long," laughed Dan, and his momentary
inattention to his duties at the wheel was promptly seized upon by the
wily sea, which smacked the rudder hard and nearly spun the wheel out
of his grip. "Stop talking, will you!" roared Dan, wrestling at the
spokes. "Do you want me to put you all into the trough?"
Mulhatton, the mate, stumbled into the pilot-house and glared at the
cook.
"Artie," he cried, "you go below, or I'll just gently heft you down! I
went in to git grub just now and 't was all on the floor. Go on
now--git!" And Arthur went, grumbling and sighing that a man's stomach
should govern his temper.
"Take the wheel a while, Cap'n?" said the mate; and as Dan nodded he
stepped in close, braced his feet, and took the strain as Dan's hands
left the spokes.
"We'll both be on the wheel together before long," remarked Dan,
sitting heavily on the chart locker and opening and shutting his
stiffened fingers.
"Where is she and what's ashore?" asked Mulhatton. "You jumped us out
in such a hurry this morning, I ain't had time to ask you.
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