"Me it are, sir," replied the tall sailor, again ducking his head. "I
was to report at 'leven--shore time."

"I thought it was that cursed boy," returned the captain in a sharp,
quick tone, totally unlike the soothing drawl he had used in addressing
Ralph. "Where can he be, I wonder?"

The boatswain, comprehending that the captain was making inquiry rather
of himself than his auditor, remained discreetly silent, merely
availing himself of a chance to throw a tremendous quid of "navy" into
the fireplace.

"I want you to take him on board, Tom," added Gary, turning round.
"You must see him stowed before I go down."

"Where will I find him, sir?"

"The deuce only knows. I told him to take a run round, but to show up
at eleven. He is a thorough backwoods rooster and he may have got
lost. Suppose you take a turn round the square and look him up. Don't
be gone long. I have stores yet to go down by tug."

"Aye, aye, sir," quoth Bludson, and promptly vanished.

The captain had hardly buried himself in his accounts again, before the
boatswain reappeared, holding Ralph by the collar. The lad had
resisted at first, but found himself helpless in the grasp of the
gigantic seaman and now ceased his struggles, though his face was red
with vexation.