to every time I get thirsty. But never mind, sing out as you says, and
tell the steward what kind o' pisin you'll mix with your blood current.
Mine's the same old thing."

"It's my watch below now," said Mr. Trunnell, "an' if you'll excuse me,
I'll turn in. The third mate's gone below some time ago."

"Oh, the boat's all right. It's dead calm, and she can't hurt herself
floating around this ocean," said the old man. "You can take a drink
before you go. Steward! Ahoy there, steward!"

"Yessir," said that active mulatto, springing out of his cabin. "Yessir;
I hears yo', cap'n."

"What'll you have?" asked Thompson, addressing the mate.

Trunnell scratched his big bushy head a moment, and then suggested
that a bottle of the ginger pop which the steward had in the pantry
would do for him.

"Hell'n blazes, man, take a drink o' something," cried Thompson, turning
upon him with his fierce eyes. "What's the matter with you?"

"Nothin', only I drinks what I drinks or else I don't drink at all," said
Trunnell. "Ye asked me what I'd have, an' I says it."

"All right, Shorty," said Thompson, in mock gravity. "You drinks what you
drinks. What's yours, Rolling?"

"As I've just turned to, a little soda will do for me," I answered. "I'd