In the studio the noise was like that of a small cannon.

"Mutiny!" yelled Jack Jepson, jumping in the air a foot or more.
"Mutiny!"

But he stopped, and just in time. Two steps more would have brought him
in front of the clicking camera.

"Mutiny!" he fairly roared. "What is this! Who's firin' a shot across my
bows? All hands on deck t' repel boarders! Avast there!" and he stood
looking around in bewilderment, while the smoke from the revolver
floated upward.

"Come here!" called Mr. Pertell running forward, and grasping the arm of
the sailor before he could get away to step in front of any of the other
moving picture machines. "You don't understand, Mr. Jepson. I merely
want you to----"

"Yes, I reckon I heard you say what you wanted me to do. Now look here!
I don't know much about you, but you come over t' our Sailors' Snug
Harbor, an' you took some pictures. That was all right, I'm not captain
there an' I haven't anything t' say. You said you wanted an old
able-bodied man for certain work, an' I volunteered. I didn't know where
the voyage was, but I signed on, an' come here; didn't I?"

"You did," said Mr. Pertell. "But let me explain."

"No, you listen to me, first!" exclaimed the old salt, shaking a
thickened and roughened finger at the manager. "I come here, willin' to
do anything from slushin' th' mast, or holystonin' th' decks t' furlin'