"Well," said the carpenter, "my lot's just this. She's wrung her masthead, and I could splice a new one in with the lump of redwood forward and the irons Jordan found me, but it's a contract one could only put through in smooth water."
"What does he mean by wrung?" asked Niven.
"'Tis a complete 'cyclopedia with pictorial illusthrations ye will be when ye go home," said Donegal. "Just wrung, same as ye would twist a towel, by the strain on the halliard bolts! Ye will feed him on mustard, Brulée, if he talks again. Well now, Stickine?"
"We're making for a snug berth under one of the Aleutians," said Stickine. "Montreal figures he'll want three days there, but the Indian has a kind of notion we might find a sea otter."
"We wouldn't be very much better off if we did," said Niven. "Will anybody give me twenty-five cents for my share in one sea otter?"
Charley fumbled in his pockets, and apparently finding nothing there gravely laid a beautifully-made knife upon his knees. "If you'll take that for it we'll make the deal," he said.
Niven looked at the speaker in astonishment, and was about to take the knife when Donegal laid his hand upon it.
"'Twould serve ye right if I let ye. Is it shaming me with the ignorance av ye will be doing always?" he said. "What's a sea otter? Sure, 'tis the same thing as pearls and rubies, and what Mandarins and Emperors wear. Sorrow on the beast that would get himself exthinct."
Niven chuckled. "That's his usual rot, and I'll take the knife," he said. "What's the use of hunting any beast when it's extinct?"
"Give it him," said Donegal. "Thim as can't take telling ye must teach wid a stick."