Treats his owners just as so much sassage,”
of the song of thirty years before.
“In the old Petrella, when I had her,” Captain Cary said, “we had two athletes forward. I felt that they took an undue position in the fo’c’sle. When we reached Sydney, I bought some sets of boxing-gloves and caused them to teach boxing to all hands for a plug of tobacco a hand. By the time we left China, there were six or seven men in each watch able to deal with them. I shall be glad to see some boxing again. I understand that you box, Mr. Harker? I think that I used to see you box when we went to Auckland that time.”
“Yes, sir, I used to box a little.”
“Steward, will you have the goodness to set out my shore-suit presently? I shall go ashore after coffee after dinner with Mr. Harker.”
“Very good, Captain Cary.”
“You will explain the different blows to me, Mr. Harker. I have never boxed, myself, but I have sometimes had to hit men. The principle I have always gone upon is, to be first.”
“It is a very sound principle, sir.”
After breakfast, Captain Cary had his look-see from the dinghy, and as a result of it Mr. Hopkins went below with the hands to trim her by the head. Sard, with the third mate and the best of the boys, got the main-royal mast down on deck. He himself went to the top-gallant cross-trees at the beginning of the work. Up there in the wind he had a good view of Los Xicales. There it was, white, shining and mysterious. “You are mixed up with my life,” Sard muttered, “and as far as I can foresee, I shall not find out why even this time.”
While he was aloft, he saw a big barquentine-rigged steam yacht come smartly in to the steamship anchorage and let go her anchor. She was of about six hundred tons, and this and the fact that she was flying the blue ensign, told him that she was the Yuba. He pointed her out to Borleigh, one of the boys there. “There is the Yuba, Sir James’s yacht, that went round the world, and then went back the other way to take the turn out.”