"Phew!" exclaimed Hank, drawing a long breath; "an' whar did yew larn thet trick o' handlin' a boat? Been whalin', I s'pose?"
"No; all the boat-work I know I picked up in the Islands."
"Ever seen Siwash squaws run a birch-bark through rapids?" asked old Bedrock Ben. "That's what I calls boat-handlin'."
"Squaws 'andle a boat! To 'ell wiv ye!" burst out the cockney disdainfully. "What d'you know 'bout h'it? W'y, you ain't never seen the Boat Ryce."
"What boat race?" grunted old Ben.
"Lord lummy, byes, listen to 'im! Sech h'ignorance is bloomin' well a disgryce."
"What's this here race you-alls alludes to?" inquired Broncho in his polite Texan drawl.
"Oh, 'ell!" gasped the cockney, and sank back in a state of collapse.
"I see'd the Boat Race onct," suddenly put in Jim's small voice, "an' I ain't never forget it."
"I ain't no use fur racin'," growled Red Bill. "I does a v'yage once in one o' them tea-clippers, an' that were enuff racin' to last me my time. What wi' carryin' on when it's blowin' great guns an' muckin' around in the tropics with royal stuns'ls, save-alls, water-s'ls, ringtails, an' sech-like superfloous pocket-handkerchers, it ain't no game fur a white man."