Up comes the skipper from down below,

And he looks aloft and he looks alow.

And he looks alow and he looks aloft,

And it's, "Coil up your ropes, there, fore and aft."

With a big Bow-wow!

Tow-row-row!

Fal de rai de, ri do day!

--Boston Shanty.

Captain Mayo strode straight to the men at the wheel. "Give me those

spokes!" he commanded. "I'll take her! Get in your washing, boys!"

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"Ay, ay, sir!" assented Mr. Speed, giving the resisting Dolph a violent

shove.

When Captain Candage began to curse, Captain Mayo showed that he had a

voice and vocabulary of his own. He fairly roared down the master of the

Polly.

"Now shut up!" he ordered the dumfounded skipper, who faced him, mouth

agape. "This is no time for any more foolishness. It's a case of work

together to save our lives. Down with 'em, boys!"

"That's right," declared the mate. "She don't need much of anything on

her except a double-reefed mitten with the thumb brailed up."

The wind had not attained the velocity of a gale, but it did have an

ugly growl which suggested further violence. Mayo braced himself, ready

to bring the schooner about in order to give the crew an opportunity to

shorten sail.

Captain Candage, deposed as autocrat for the moment, seemed to be

uncertain as to his duties.

Mayo, understanding mariner nature, felt some contrition and was

prompted by saner second thought.

"You'd better take the wheel, Captain Candage. You know her tricks

better than I do in a seaway. I'll help the boys take in sail."

The master obeyed with alacrity. He seemed to be cowed. Anger no longer

blinded him to their predicament.

"Just say what you want done, and I'll try to do it," he told Mayo, in

a voice which had become suddenly mild and rather beseeching. Then he

called to his daughter, who had come to the foot of the companion steps,

"Better blow out that cabin light, Polly girl! She's li'ble to dance

bad, and we don't want to run the chance of fire."

Mayo got a glimpse at her face as he hurried upon the house on his way

to the main halyards. Her face was pale, but there was the firm spirit

of her Yankee ancestry of the sea in her poise and in her very silence

in that crisis. She obeyed without complaint or question and the cabin

was dark; even the glimmer of the light had held something of cheer. Now

the gloom was somber and depressing.




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