"Cook!" bawled the skipper one day when they were about a week out.

Dr. Carson, who was peeling potatoes, stepped slowly out of the galley
and went toward him.

"You say 'Sir,' when you're spoken to," said the skipper, fiercely.

The doctor sneered.

"My --- if you sneer at me, I'll knock your head off!" said the other,
with a wicked look.

"When you get back to Melbourne," said the doctor, quietly, "you'll hear
more of this."

"You're a couple of pickpockets aping the gentleman," said the skipper,
and he turned to the mate. "Mr. Mackenzie, what do these two ragamuffins
look like?"

"Pickpockets," said the mate, dutifully.

"It's a very handy thing," said the old man, jeeringly, "to have a doctor
aboard. First time I've carried a surgeon."

Mr. Mackenzie guffawed loudly.

"And a solicitor," said the skipper, gazing darkly at the hapless Harry
Thomson, who was cleaning brasswork. "Handy in case of disputes. He's a
real sea lawyer. _Cook!_"