"Excuse!" cried Harvey. "D'you suppose I'd fall overboard into
your dirty little boat for fun?"

"Not knowin' what your notions o' fun may be, I can't rightly say,
young feller. But if I was you, I wouldn't call the boat which,
under Providence, was the means o' savin' ye, names. In the first
place, it's blame irreligious. In the second, it's annoyin' to my
feelin's - an' I'm Disko Troop o' the "We're Here" o' Gloucester,
which you don't seem rightly to know."

"I don't know and I don't care," said Harvey. "I'm grateful enough
for being saved and all that, of course; but I want you to
understand that the sooner you take me back to New York the better
it'll pay you."

"Meanin'- haow?" Troop raised one shaggy eyebrow over a
suspiciously mild blue eye.

"Dollars and cents," said Harvey, delighted to think that he was
making an impression. "Cold dollars and cents." He thrust a hand
into a pocket, and threw out his stomach a little, which was his
way of being grand. "You've done the best day's work you ever did
in your life when you pulled me in. I'm all the son Harvey Cheyne
has."

"He's bin favoured," said Disko, drily.

"And if you don't know who Harvey Cheyne is, you don't know much -
that's all. Now turn her around and let's hurry."