sailor boarding-master, who had stolen my inward crew that he might, as
he boasted afterward, "ship new hands in their places." In view of the
fact that this vilest of crimps was the loser of the money, I could
almost forgive the "galoots" for the theft of my boat. (The ship is
usually responsible for advance wages twenty-four hours after she has
sailed, providing, too, that the sailors proceed to sea in her.) Seeing,
moreover, that they were of that stripe, unworthy the name of sailor, my
vessel was the better without them, by at least what it cost to be rid
of them, namely, the price of my boat.

However, I will take back what I said about Dutch Harry being the
"vilest crimp." There came one to Rosario worse than he, one "Pete the
Greek," who cut off the ears of a rival boarding-master at the Boca,
threw them into the river, then, making his escape to Rosario, some 180
miles away, established himself in the business in opposition to the
Dutchman, whom he "shanghaied" soon after, then "reigned peacefully in
his stead."

A captain who, like myself, had suffered from the depredations of this
noted gentry, told me, in great glee, that he saw Harry on a bone-laden
Italian bark outward bound,--"even then nearly out of the river." The
last seen of him by my friend, the captain, was "among the branches,"
with a rope around his neck--they hanged him, maybe--I don't know what
else the rope was for, or who deserved more to be hanged. The captain
screamed with delight:--"he'll get bone soup, at least, for a while,
instead of Santa Fè good mutton-chops at our expense."

My second crew was furnished by Mr. Pete, before referred to, and on the
seventeenth of December we set sail from that country of revolutions.
Things soon dropped into working order, and I found reason to be pleased