lost here in making repairs, and the morning of the fresh start, as
they came down to embark, on stern and bow, in large letters, was
charcoaled 'The Chechaquo.'

Kit grinned at the appropriateness of the invidious word.

"Huh!" said Shorty, when accused by Stine. "I can sure read and
spell, an' I know that Chechaquo means tenderfoot, but my education
never went high enough to learn me to spell a jaw-breaker like
that."

Both employers looked daggers at Kit, for the insult rankled; nor
did he mention that the night before, Shorty had besought him for
the spelling of that particular word.

"That's 'most as bad as your bear-meat slam at 'em," Shorty confided
later.

Kit chuckled. Along with the continuous discovery of his own powers
had come an ever-increasing disapproval of the two masters. It was
not so much irritation, which was always present, as disgust. He
had got his taste of the meat, and liked it; but they were teaching
him how not to eat it. Privily, he thanked God that he was not made
as they. He came to dislike them to a degree that bordered on
hatred. Their malingering bothered him less than their helpless
inefficiency. Somewhere in him, old Isaac Bellew and all the rest
of the hardy Bellews were making good.

"Shorty," he said one day, in the usual delay of getting started, "I
could almost fetch them a rap over the head with an oar and bury