He turned sharply,
exhibiting a red, bearded face.
"Pa, this gen'man wants to be took aboard the boat at quarantine. He'll
give you fifty berries."
The wrath died out of the skipper's face like the slow turning down of
a lamp. The fishing had been poor, and so far he had only managed to
secure a single two-dollar bill. In a crisis like the one which had so
suddenly arisen you cannot do yourself justice with a boat-hook.
"Fifty berries!"
"Fifty seeds!" the girl assured him. "Are you on?"
"Queen," said the skipper simply, "you said a mouthful!"
Twenty minutes later Sam was climbing up the side of the liner as it
lay towering over the tug like a mountain. His clothes hung about him
clammily. He squelched as he walked.
A kindly looking old gentleman who was smoking a cigar by the rail
regarded him with open eyes.
"My dear sir, you're very wet," he said.
Sam passed him with a cold face and hurried through the door leading to
the companion-way.
"Mummie, why is that man wet?" cried the clear voice of a little child.
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