take it back."

"And you have shown me I was right." This with a gratified smile.
"How old are you?"

"Just turned sixteen, sir,"

"A lie. You'll never see eighteen again. Big for your age at
that, with muscles like a horse. Pack up your kit and go for'ard
into the fo'c'sle. You're a boat-puller now. You're promoted;
see?"

Without waiting for the boy's acceptance, the captain turned to the
sailor who had just finished the gruesome task of sewing up the
corpse. "Johansen, do you know anything about navigation?"

"No, sir,"

"Well, never mind; you're mate just the same. Get your traps aft
into the mate's berth."

"Ay, ay, sir," was the cheery response, as Johansen started
forward.

In the meantime the erstwhile cabin-boy had not moved. "What are
you waiting for?" Wolf Larsen demanded.

"I didn't sign for boat-puller, sir," was the reply. "I signed for
cabin-boy. An' I don't want no boat-pullin' in mine."