"Captain," said the agent, piqued at having his title by courtesy withheld.

"By no mean," said Major Sawrasp, who had spoken--"I believe I am speaking
to Lieutenant Crowfoot, agent for transport No.--, wherein it so happens I
am commanding officer--so"--

Old Crowfoot saw he was in the wrong box, and therefore hove about, and
backed out in good time--making the amende as smoothly as his gruff nature
admitted, and trying to look pleased.

Presently the same bothersome mate came down again--"The strange sail is
creeping up on our quarter, sir."

"Ay?" said Crowfoot, "how does she lay?"

"She is hauled by the wind on the starboard tack, sir," continued the mate.

We now went on deck, and found that our suspicious friend had shortened
sail, as if he had made us out, and wag afraid to approach, or was lying by
until nightfall.

Sawrasp had before this, with the tact and ease of a soldier and a
gentleman, soldered his feud with Crowfoot, and, with the rest of the
lobsters, was full of fight. The sun at length set, and the night closed
in when the old major again addressed Crowfoot.

"My dear fellow, can't you wait a bit, and let us have a rattle at that
chap?" And old Crowfoot, who never bore a grudge long, seemed much inclined
to fall in with the soldier's views; and, in fine, although the weather was