begrudges him, an' nobody can rub it out. So here's to 'the cap'en's
mark, a dead sure thing.' Bottoms up."

The glasses were emptied in silence, and turned bottoms uppermost on the
bar.

The boys were slowly dispersing, when one, who was strongly suspected of
having been a Church member remarked:

"He was took of a sudden, so he shouldn't be stuck up."

Whitey turned to him, and replied, with some asperity:

"Young man, you'll be lucky ef _you're_ ever stuck up as high as the
captain."

And all the boys understood what Whitey meant.




CODAGO.


Two o'clock A.M. is supposed to be a popular sleeping hour the world
over, and as Flatfoot Bar was a portion of the terrestrial sphere, it
was but natural to expect its denizens to be in bed at that hour.

Yet, on a certain morning twenty years ago, when there was neither
sickness nor a fashionable entertainment to excuse irregular hours in