the man who had saved his life.

Dan threw him a swab, and he leaned over the dory, mopping up the
slime clumsily, but with great good-will. "Hike out the foot-boards;
they slide in them grooves," said Dan. "Swab 'em an' lay
'em down. Never let a foot-board jam. Ye may want her bad some
day. Here's Long Jack."

A stream of glittering fish flew into the pen from a dory
alongside.

"Manuel, you take the tackle. I'll fix the tables. Harvey, clear
Manuel's boat. Long Jack's nestin' on the top of her."

Harvey looked up from his swabbing at the bottom of another dory
just above his head.

"Jest like the Injian puzzle-boxes, ain't they?" said Dan, as the
one boat dropped into the other.

"Takes to ut like a duck to water," said Long Jack, a grizzly-
chinned, long-lipped Galway man, bending to and fro exactly as
Manuel had done. Disko in the cabin growled up the hatchway, and
they could hear him suck his pencil.

"Wan hunder an' forty-nine an' a half - bad luck to ye,
Discobolus!" said Long Jack. "I'm murderin' meself to fill your
pockuts. Slate ut for a bad catch. The Portugee has bate me."

Whack came another dory alongside, and more fish shot into the