if the _James Flint_ only lifts his hook by Saturday. Here's one
bloomin' _hombre_ that funks racin' a fancy whaler! . . . An' doesn't
care who knows it, either!"


II

Thursday passed--and now Friday--still there was no sign of the wind
changing, and the big Yankee barque lay quietly at anchor over by the
Presidio.

When the butcher came off from the shore with the day's stores, we
eagerly questioned him about the prospects of the _James Flint's_
sailing. "_Huh_! I guess yew're nat the only 'citizens' that air
concarned 'bout that!" he said. "They're talkin' 'bout nuthin' else on
every 'lime-juicer' in the Bay! . . . . An' th' _Rickmers_! Gee!
Schenkie's had his eye glued ter th' long telescope ever since
daybreak, watchin' fer th' _Flint_ heavin' up anchor!"

The butcher had varied information to give us. Now it was that Bully
Nathan had telegraphed to his New York owners for permission to remain
in port over Sunday. Then again, Bully was on the point of being
dismissed his ship for not taking full advantage of a puff of nor'-west
wind that came and went on Thursday night.

. . . The _Flint_ was short of men! . . . The Flint had a full crew
aboard! Rumours and rumours! "All sorts o' talk," said the butcher;
"but I know this fer certain--she's got all her stores aboard. Gosh!
I guess--she--has! I don't like to wish nobody no harm, byes, but I
hope Bully Nathan's first chop 'll choke him, fer th' way he done me