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“‘Ease away on that guy and lower away easy,’ I hollered to Bill. The stone dropped to within two feet of the brig’s deck and swung back and for’ards. Then I heard Bill yell. I was expectin’ it.

“‘Water’s comin’ in!’

“I leaned over the brig’s rail and could see the slop of the sea combin’ over the Screamer’s fo’c’s’le hatch. Bill’s fires would be out the next minute. There was just two feet now ‘tween the stone and the deck where I stood–too much to drop; but there was nothing else to do, and I hollered:

“‘All gone.’

“Down she come with a run, struck the big timbers on the deck, and by Jiminy! ye could a-heard that old brig groan from stem to stern.

“I jumped on top of the stone and threw off the shackles, and the Screamer came up on an even keel as easy as a duck ridin’ the water.

“You just oughter seen the Colonel when the old boat righted herself, and he had climbed up and stood ‘longside the Major a-talkin’ it over.

“Pretty soon he came up to where I was a-gettin’ the tackle ready to lower the stone in the hold, and he says:

“‘Well, you made your word good, Cap’n, but I want to tell you that nobody but an American could a-done it. It would cost me my commission if I should try to do what you have done.’

“‘Well, gentlemen,’ I says, ‘what was wrong about it? What’s the matter with the Screamer’s rig?’

“‘Well, the size of the rope for one thing,’ says the Colonel, ‘and the boom.’

“‘Well, p’haps you ain’t looked it over,’ I says, and I began unravelling an end that stuck out near the shackle. ‘If you’ll look close here’–and I held the end of the rope up–‘you’ll see that every stran’ of that rope is made of the best Manila yarn, and laid as smooth as silk. I stood over that rope myself when it was put together. Old Sam Hanson of New Bedford laid up that rope, and there ain’t no better nowhere. I knew what it had to do, and I warn’t goin’ to take no chances of its not doin’ it right. As to that boom, I want to tell ye that I picked that boom out o’ about two hundred sticks in Tom Carlin’s shipyard, in Stonington, and had it scraped and ironed just to please me. There ain’t a rotten knot in it from butt to finish, and mighty few of any other kind. That stick’s growed right–that’s what’s the matter with it; and it bellies out in the middle, just where it ought to be thickest.’

“Well, they didn’t say nothin’ for a while, ‘cept to walk round the stone once or twice and slap it with their hands, as if they wanted to make sure it was all there. My men were all over it now, and we was gettin’ things in shape to finish up. I tell ye the boys were mighty glad, and so was I. It had been a long pull of six months’ work, and we were out of most everything, and as soon as the big stone was down in the brig’s hold, and warped back and stowed with the others–and that wouldn’t take but a day or two more–we would clean up, get our money, and light out for home.

“All this time the Colonel and the Major were buzzin’ each other off by the other rail. Pretty soon they both come over to where I stood, and the Colonel reached out his hand.

“‘Cap’n Brandt,’ he says–and he had a look in his face as if he meant it–and he did, every word of it–‘it would give Major Severn and myself great pleasure if you would dine with us to-night at the Canteen. The Admiral is coming, and some brother officers who would be pleased to know you.’

“Well, I was struck all of a heap for a minute, knowing what kind of clo’es I had to go in, and so I says:

“‘Well, gentlemen, that’s very nice of you, and I see you mean it, and if I had anything fittin’ to wear there’s nothin’ I would like better; but ye see how I’m fixed,’ and I lifted my arms so he could see a few holes that he might a-missed before, and I motioned to some other parts of my get-up that needed repairs.

“‘That don’t make no difference, Cap’n, what kind of clo’es you come in. We dine at eight o’clock.’

“Of course I knew I couldn’t go, and I didn’t want ’em to think I intended to go when I didn’t, so I says, rather positive-like:

“‘Very much obliged, gentlemen, but I guess I’ll have to get you to count me out this time.’ I knowed I warn’t fittin’ to sit at anybody’s table, especially if that old Admiral was comin’.

“The Colonel see I was in earnest, and he stepped up, quick-like, and laid his hand on my shoulder.

“‘Captain Brandt,’ he says, ‘we ain’t worryin’ ’bout your clo’es, and don’t you worry. You can come in your shirt, you can come in your socks, or you can come without one damned rag–only come!'”

The Captain stopped, shook the ashes from his cigar, slowly raised himself to his feet, and reached for his hat.

“Did you go, Captain?” I asked.

The Captain looked at me for a moment with one of those quizzical glances which so often light up his face when something amuses him, and said, as he blew a cloud of smoke to the ceiling:

“Well, I didn’t forget my manners. When it got dark–dark, mind ye–I went up and sat on the piazza and had a smoke with ’em–Admiral and all. But I didn’t go to dinner–not in them pants.”