"Wasn't the captain's clothes big for him?" asked B. Franklin Jenkins, anxiously.
The janitor eyed young Jenkins with pained dignity.
"Didn't I say the Rooshin captain was a small, a very small man? Rooshins is small, likewise Greeks."
A noble enthusiasm beamed in the faces of the youthful heroes.
"Was Barlow as large as me?" asked C. F. Hall Golightly, lifting his curls from his Jove-like brow.
"Yes; but then he hed hed, so to speak, experiences. It was allowed that he had pizened his schoolmaster afore he went to sea. But it's dry talking, boys."
Golightly drew a flask from his jacket and handed it to the janitor. It was his father's best brandy. The heart of the honest old seaman was touched.
"Bless ye, my own pirate boy!" he said, in a voice suffocating with emotion.
"I've got some tobacco," said the youthful Jenkins, "but it's fine-cut; I use only that now."
"I kin buy some plug at the corner grocery," said Pirate Jim, "only I left my port-money at home."