comfortable while he was shivering.

"Christmas Eve!" he exclaimed. "Fine, ain't it?" and he flailed his
arms about to keep the blood in circulation.

"Christmas Eve," said Dan solemnly, as though to himself, "the finest I
ever spent"; and he added apologetically, "even if I am making an
eternal fool of myself."

On they sped. Frequently the tug would hit a large stretch of clear
water, and at such times the jingle-bell would sound in the engine-room
and the _Quinn_ would shoot forward at a rate that fairly lifted the
rowboat out of the water, while Dan, kneeling astern, oar in hand,
muscles tense, and mind alert, was ready to do anything that lay in his
skill to prevent an untoward accident.

Swish! Zip! and the rowboat would suddenly shoot to one side or the
other, compelling Dan to dig his oar way down into the water, bending
all his strength in efforts to keep the bow straight.

"She's rooting every second," he grumbled, opening and shutting his
hand to drive away the stiffness and then casting a vindictive glance
at Captain Barney, the source of all the trouble.

And as for the tugboat-skipper, he sat and watched his companion, and
resolved that, after all, there were a few things he did not know about
watermanship.

Between the shadowy banks of the Narrows shot the _Quinn_. Out of the
harbor in a rowboat! Even professional Battery boatmen do this about