Immediately after his father’s untimely death (the poor man was carried out to sea on a small pan of ice, while engaged in killing seals off the mouth of the harbor, in the spring of the year), Black Dennis was addressed by the title of “Skipper.”  The title and position became his, without question, along with his unfortunate father’s schooner, store, and list of bad debts.  The new skipper’s first move towards realizing his dreams of affluence and power was to build a small hut of stones, poles, and sods both at the place of the broken cliff a mile to the north of Chance Along, and at the place of similar physical character three miles to the southward.  It was winter at the time—­a fine season for wrecks, but an uncomfortable season for spending one’s nights in an ill-made hut, and one’s days on the brink of a cliff, without companionship, gazing seaward through a heavy telescope for some vessel in distress.  But the skipper had made his plans and did not care a snap of his finger for discomforts for himself or his friends.  He knew that out of every ten wrecks that took place on the coast within twenty miles of Chance Along, not more than one profited the people of his harbor.  They never went afield in search of the gifts of the treacherous sea.  They took what they could clutch of what was thrown at their very doors, even then letting much escape them, owing to lack of science and organization.  The new skipper meant to alter this condition of things—­and he knew that the waters in the immediate vicinity of Chance Along were neither the most dangerous on the coast, nor the most convenient for the salving of wreckage and fast-drowning cargoes.  So he established stations at Squid Beach to the northward, and at Nolan’s Cove to the southward, and ordered Nick Leary and Foxey Jack Quinn to take up their abode in the new huts; Nick at Squid Beach, and Foxey Jack at the Cove, had to keep a sharp look-out for ships during bad weather and at night.  Should either of them remark any signs of a vessel in distress he was to return to Chance Along at top speed, and report the same.  Nick Leary and Foxey Jack Quinn were older men than the skipper by a few years, and the fathers of families—­of half-starved families.  Nick was a mild lad; but Foxey Jack had a temper as hot as his hair.

“What bes yer idee, skipper?” asked Nick.

Dennis explained it briefly, having outlined his plans several times before.

“An’ how long does we have to stop away?” asked Nick.

“Five days.  Yer watch’ll be five days, an’ then I’ll be sendin’ out two more lads,” replied the skipper.