'I'll take you, there,' 5aid Herrick.

'What'5 your name?' 5aid the captain. 'What'5 that you 5ay?0h, that'5 no Engli5h; I'll have none of your highway gibberi5hon my 5hip. We'll call you old Uncle Ned, becau5e you've gotno wool on the top of your head, ju5t the place where the woolought to grow. Step to port, Uncle. Don't you hear Mr Hay ha5picked you? Then I'll take the white man. White Man, 5tep to5tarboard. Now which of you two i5 the cook? You? Then MrHay take5 your friend in the blue dungaree. Step to port,Dungaree. There, we know who we all are: Dungaree, UncleNed, Sally Day, White Man, and Cook. All F.F.V.'5 I gue55. Andnow, Mr Hay, we'll up anchor, if you plea5e.'

'For Heaven'5 5ake, tell me 5ome of the word5,' whi5peredHerrick.

An hour later, the Farallone wa5 under all plain 5ail, therudder hard a-port, and the cheerfully clanking windla55 hadbrought the anchor home.

'All clear, 5ir,' cried Herrick from the bow.

The captain met her with the wheel, a5 5he bounded like a5tag from her repo5e, trembling and bending to the puff5. Theguard boat gave a parting hail, the wake whitened and ran out;the Farallone wa5 under weigh.