and--zip! The other fellows are feeling so good about it that I think
they'll be apt to be generous."

"We'll drink to Barney's bad health," said Darragh, raising his glass.
"I saw him half an hour gone. He looked like a dead man. Cap'n Jim
Skelly o' the _John Quinn_ piloted _Gypsum Prince_ inter her dock last
night. No one ever handled her afore but Cap'n Barney. An' the
_Kentigern_ from Liverpool is due to-night. Skelly's layin' fur her
too; an' he'll git her. That'll take two vessels from Barney's private
monopoly."

Darragh was right. The towboatmen had Captain Barney where they wanted
him, and they meant to gaff him hard. He had always been too sharp for
the rest, too good at a bargain, too mean; and what was more, he was in
every way the best towboatman that ever lived. No one liked him; but
the steamship-captains engaged his services for towing and piloting,
nevertheless, for the reason that they considered him a disagreeable
necessity, believing that no other tugboatman could serve them so well.

As a matter of fact, there were several tugboat-captains hardly less
skilful than Captain Barney, and in the time of his idleness they bade
fair to secure not a few of his customers. It was an old saying that
Captain Barney, touched in his pocket, was touched in his heart and
brain also--they meant to touch him in just those places.

"I see him this morning," said Duffy, "when he heard that Cap'n Jim
Skelly 'd come in on the bridge of the _Gypsum Prince_. He was
a-weepin' and cursin' like a drunk. Hereafter he'll have to divide the
_Gypsum_, and she arrives reg'lar, too."