“A sailor found them by the flagstaff that—­that night,” sobbed Mrs. Cheyne.

“That explains it, then.  I don’t blame Troop any.  I just said I wouldn’t work—­on a Banker, too—­and of course he hit me on the nose, and oh!  I bled like a stuck hog.”

“My poor darling!  They must have abused you horribly.”

“Dunno quite.  Well, after that, I saw a light.”

Cheyne slapped his leg and chuckled.  This was going to be a boy after his own hungry heart.  He had never seen precisely that twinkle in Harvey’s eye before.

“And the old man gave me ten and a half a month; he’s paid me half now; and I took hold with Dan and pitched right in.  I can’t do a man’s work yet.  But I can handle a dory ’most as well as Dan, and I don’t get rattled in a fog—­much; and I can take my trick in light winds—­that’s steering, dear—­and I can ’most bait up a trawl, and I know my ropes, of course; and I can pitch fish till the cows come home, and I’m great on old Josephus, and I’ll show you how I can clear coffee with a piece of fish-skin, and—­I think I’ll have another cup, please.  Say, you’ve no notion what a heap of work there is in ten and a half a month!”

“I began with eight and a half, my son,” said Cheyne.

“That so?  You never told me, sir.”

“You never asked, Harve.  I’ll tell you about it some day, if you care to listen.  Try a stuffed olive.”

“Troop says the most interesting thing in the world is to find out how the next man gets his vittles.  It’s great to have a trimmed-up meal again.  We were well fed, though.  But mug on the Banks.  Disko fed us first-class.  He’s a great man.  And Dan—­that’s his son—­Dan’s my partner.  And there’s Uncle Salters and his manures, an’ he reads Josephus.  He’s sure I’m crazy yet.  And there’s poor little Penn, and he is crazy.  You mustn’t talk to him about Johnstown, because—­

“And, oh, you must know Tom Platt and Long Jack and Manuel.  Manuel saved my life.  I’m sorry he’s a Portuguee.  He can’t talk much, but he’s an everlasting musician.  He found me struck adrift and drifting, and hauled me in.”

“I wonder your nervous system isn’t completely wrecked,” said Mrs. Cheyne.

“What for, Mama?  I worked like a horse and I ate like a hog and I slept like a dead man.”

That was too much for Mrs. Cheyne, who began to think of her visions of a corpse rocking on the salty seas.  She went to her stateroom, and Harvey curled up beside his father, explaining his indebtedness.

“You can depend upon me to do everything I can for the crowd, Harve.  They seem to be good men on your showing.”

“Best in the Fleet, sir.  Ask at Gloucester,” said Harvey.  “But Disko believes still he’s cured me of being crazy.  Dan’s the only one I’ve let on to about you, and our private cars and all the rest of it, and I’m not quite sure Dan believes.  I want to paralyze ’em to-morrow.  Say, can’t they run the ‘Constance’ over to Gloucester?  Mama don’t look fit to be moved, anyway, and we’re bound to finish cleaning out by tomorrow.  Wouverman takes our fish.  You see, we’re the first off the Banks this season, and it’s four twenty-five a quintal.  We held out till he paid it.  They want it quick.”