The best thing in the known history of Spike was the fact that his
steward had sailed with him for more than twenty years. Where he had
picked up Josh no one could say, but Josh and himself, and neither
chose to be very communicative on the subject. But Josh had
certainly been with him as long as he had sailed the Swash, and that
was from a time actually anterior to the birth of Mulford. The mate
soon had the negro in the council.

"I say, Josh," asked Spike, "do you happen to remember such a hand
aboard here as one Jack Tier?"

"Lor' bless you, yes sir--'members he as well as I do the pea soup
that was burnt, and which you t'rowed all over him, to scald him for
punishment."

"I've had to do that so often, to one careless fellow or other, that
the circumstance does n't recall the man. I remember him--but not as
clear as I could wish. How long did he sail with us?"

"Sebberal v'y'ge, sir, and got left ashore down on the main, one
night, when'e boat were obliged to shove off in a hurry. Yes,
'members little Jack, right well I does."

"Did you see the man that spoke us from the wharf, and hailed for
this very Jack Tier?"

"I see'd a man, sir, dat was won'erful Jack Tier built like, sir,
but I did n't hear the conwersation, habbin' the ladies to 'tend to.
But Jack was oncommon short in his floor timbers, sir, and had no
length of keel at all. His beam was won'erful for his length,