sort of a mess with this little rabbit!"

"Two times heavy on the dish washing for Thomas!" gloated Harry. "But
we're not into the surf yet a while! Listen!"

His hand was held up again for silence. From the cabin came the sound of
the clock striking the hour in nautical fashion.

"Five bells!" announced Jack.

"Let's see," mused Harry. "I never can get used to that."

"Ten thirty," Tom put in, "if it was a railroader; half past o'clock for
you Dutchmen," he added with a chuckle, wrinkling a freckled nose at
Harry and winking at Jack.

"All right!" assented Harry. "Log a surf heard at--how many bells? Oh,
yes, five bells in the morning. Log Tom Blackwood for uncivil language
to an officer and for refusing duty under fire!"

"Hark, boys!" commanded Jack "We may be getting into a mess and it's no
time for joking and carrying on like that!"

"You're right, Jack, as always!" assented Tom. "Just to show that I'm
serious, I'll joke no more until this fog lifts!"

"Here, too!" declared Harry. "But look at Rowdy! What's the matter,
Rowdy, old chap?" he continued as a great white bulldog came up the
ladder from the cabin. "What ails you?"