thing: it has to be done to Mr. Dodd's satisfaction; for it's Mr. Dodd

that's paying."

"I'm accustomed to give satisfaction," said Mr. Nares, with a dark

flush.

"And so you will here!" cried Pinkerton. "I understand you. You're

prickly to handle, but you're straight all through."

"The position's got to be understood, though," returned Nares, perhaps

a trifle mollified. "My position, I mean. I'm not going to ship

sailing-master; it's enough out of my way already, to set a foot on this

mosquito schooner."

"Well, I'll tell you," retorted Jim, with an indescribable twinkle: "you

just meet me on the ballast, and we'll make it a barquentine."

Nares laughed a little; tactless Pinkerton had once more gained a

victory in tact. "Then there's another point," resumed the captain,

tacitly relinquishing the last. "How about the owners?"

"O, you leave that to me; I'm one of Longhurst's crowd, you know," said

Jim, with sudden bristling vanity. "Any man that's good enough for me,

is good enough for them."

"Who are they?" asked Nares.

"M'Intyre and Spittal," said Jim.

"O, well, give me a card of yours," said the captain: "you needn't

bother to write; I keep M'Intyre and Spittal in my vest-pocket."

Boast for boast; it was always thus with Nares and Pinkerton--the two

vainest men of my acquaintance. And having thus reinstated himself in

his own opinion, the captain rose, and, with a couple of his stiff nods,

departed.

"Jim," I cried, as the door closed behind him, "I don't like that man."

"You've just got to, Loudon," returned Jim. "He's a typical American

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