Almost at the same moment a dark figure appeared on the jetty above and
began to descend the ladder, and a strongly built young man of twenty-two
sprang nimbly to the deck.

"Ten o'clock, Ted," said the skipper, slowly. "It 'll be eleven in an
hour's time," said the mate, calmly.

"That 'll do," said the skipper, in a somewhat loud voice, as he noticed
that his late adversary still occupied his favourite strained position,
and a fortuitous expression of his mother's occurred to him: "Don't talk
to me; I've been arguing with a son of Belial for the last half-hour."

"Bargee," said the son of Belial, in a dispassionate voice.

"Don't take no notice of him, Ted," said the skipper, pityingly.

"He wasn't talking to me," said Ted. "But never mind about him; I want
to speak to you in private."

"Fire away, my lad," said the other, in a patronizing voice.

"Speak up," said the voice from the schooner, encouragingly. "I'm
listening."

There was no reply from the bargee. The master led the way to the cabin,
and lighting a lamp, which appealed to more senses than one, took a seat
on a locker, and again requested the other to fire away.

"Well, you see, it's this way," began the mate, with a preliminary