about two points aft her beam, but never let it be said that I
turned up my nose at a good stiff nor'west trade. I've sunk
pretty low, Mac, but I was a real sailor once an' I can sail this
old hooker wherever there's water enough to float her. It's just
pie--well, for heaven's sake, Mac, what are you standin' around
for? Ain't I ordered you to get steam up in the donkey? Lively,
you lubber. After you've got the fire goin', we'll place leadin'
blocks along the deck, lead all the runnin' gear to the winch
head, an' stand by to swing them yards when I give the word."

Mr. Gibney trotted down to the main deck and prowled aft. On the
port side of her house he found two more dead men, and a cursory
inspection of the bodies told him they had died of scurvy. He
circled the ship, came back to the fo'castle, entered, and found
four men alive in their berths, but too far gone to leave them.
"I'll have you boys in the Marine Hospital to-night," he informed
the poor creatures, and sought the master's cabin. Lying on his
bed, fully dressed, he found the skipper of the _Chesapeake_. The
man was gaunt and emaciated.

The freebooter of the green-pea trade touched his wet forelock
respectfully. "My name is Gibney, sir, an' I hold an unlimited
license as first mate of sail or steam. I was passin' up the
coast on a good-for-nothin' little bumboat, an' seen you in
distress, so me an' a friend swum over to give you the double O.
You're in a bad way, sir."

"Two hundred and eighty-seven days from Hamburg, Mr. Gibney. Our
vegetables gave out and we drank too much rain water and ate too
much fresh fish down in the Doldrums. Our potatoes all went