sweat.

"Not at all--not at all--the captain goes on well-known and beaten
ground--Sam, what is wanting, now?"

"Here is Baiting Joe comed up from the wharf, wanting to see master,"
returned a grey-headed negro, who had formerly been a slave, and who now
lived about the place giving his services for his support.

"Baiting Joe! He is not after his sheepshead, I hope--if he is, he is
somewhat late in the day."

"Ay, ay," put in the young sailor, laughing--"tell him Sam, that no small
part of it is bound to the southward meaning to cross the line in my
company, and that right soon."

"I paid Joe his half-dollar, certainly--_you_ saw me pay him, captain
Gar'ner."

"I don't think it's any sich thing, master. There is a stranger with Joe,
that he has ferried across from Shelter Island, and _he's_ comed up from
the wharf too. Yes--that's it, master."

A stranger! Who could it be? A command was given to admit him, and no
sooner did Mary get a sight of his person, than she quietly arose to
procure a plate, in order that he, too, might have his share of the fish.