"Go below."

"And just sposin I won't," answered the drunkard--"only sposin,
mind!--just for the sake of argyment, d'ye see?--what then?"

"Irons."

The drunkard folded his arms.

"And might I make so bold, Commander Ardin," he began elaborately,
"to ask who'll fight your guns, your Actin Fust in irons; and besides
yourself ne'er another officer on the quar'er-deck--only this ere squab."

"I'll fight em myself if needs be. Go below, d'ye hear?"

The Gunner stumbled away, roaring laughter.

"Sail the blurry ship; fight the blurry ship; sink the blurry ship;
and go to ell in the blurry ship. That's old Ding-dong."




CHAPTER IV


OLD DING-DONG

"They call you Kit?"