that remark was too tedious for him--he couldn't stand it. He
turned to the mate, and says he--

"Have we got brimstone enough of our own to make the trip?"

"Yes, sir."

"Sure?"

"Yes, sir--more than enough."

"How much have we got in cargo for Satan?"

"Eighteen hundred thousand billion quintillions of kazarks."

"Very well, then, let his boarders freeze till the next comet
comes. Lighten ship! Lively, now, lively, men! Heave the whole
cargo overboard!"

Peters, look me in the eye, and be calm. I found out, over there,
that a kazark is exactly the bulk of a HUNDRED AND SIXTY-NINE
WORLDS LIKE OURS! They hove all that load overboard. When it fell
it wiped out a considerable raft of stars just as clean as if
they'd been candles and somebody blowed them out. As for the race,
that was at an end. The minute she was lightened the comet swung
along by me the same as if I was anchored. The captain stood on
the stern, by the after-davits, and put his thumb to his nose and
sung out--

"Ta-ta! ta-ta! Maybe YOU'VE got some message to send your friends