hunger; and yet he was conscious that, in a way, he would have been
disappointed if it had not been there.

"No other smack is shipping its fish," quavered a voice at his elbow.
It was the voice of the baker's assistant.

"But this smack is," replied Weeks, and he set his mouth hard. "And,
what's more, my Willie is taking it aboard. Now, who'll go with
Willie?"

"I will."

Weeks swung round on Duncan and stared at him. Then he stared out to
sea. Then he stared again at Duncan.

"You?"

"When I shipped as a hand on the _Willing Mind_, I took all a hand's
risks."

"And brought the willing mind," said Weeks with a smile, "Go, then!
Some one must go. Get the boat tackle ready, forward. Here, Willie,
put your life-belt on. You, too, Duncan, though God knows life-belts
won't be of no manner of use; but they'll save your insurance. Steady
with the punt there! If it slips inboard off the rail there will be a
broken back! And, Willie, don't get under the cutter's counter. She'll
come atop of you and smash you like an egg. I'll drop you as close as
I can to windward, and pick you up as close as I can to leeward."

The boat was dropped into the water and loaded up with fish-boxes.