three foremast hands. Indeed, I didn't expect to see a sailor on this
dock."

"I had to come around the Horn to get here, Miss," he explained, "and
when a man hasn't money to pay for his passage, he needs must work
it."

"I'm the second mate," she explained. "We had a succession of gales
from the Falklands to the Evangelistas, and there the mate got her in
irons and she took three big ones over the taffrail and cost us eight
men. Working short-handed, we couldn't get any canvas on her to speak
of--long voyage, you know, and the rest of the crew got scurvy."

"You're a brave girl," he told her.

"And you're a first-class A. B.," she replied. "If you're looking for
a berth, my father will be glad to ship you."

"Sorry, but I can't go," he called as he turned toward the companion
ladder. "I'm Cardigan, and I own this sawmill and must stay here and
look after it."

There was a light, exultant feeling in his middle-aged heart as he
scampered along the deck. The girl had wonderful dark auburn hair and
brown eyes, with a milk-white skin that sun and wind had sought in
vain to blemish. And for all her girlhood she was a woman--bred from
a race (his own people) to whom danger and despair merely furnished a
tonic for their courage. What a mate for a man! And she had looked at
him pridefully.