'I will,' said Geordie. And next morning he went aft and touched his cap to the skipper and begged to be allowed to speak to him.
'The galley-fire at night!' said Smith. 'Oh, certainly, Mr. Potts. I never done it because it was against the horders of your late revered huncle, sir.'
'He was as mean as mean,' said Geordie. 'I think I can afford the fire, sir.'
The fire was lighted, and the crowd said Geordie was the right sort.
'And wot about the gear, Mr. Howner?' asked Jack Braby. 'If I was you, before it gets too rotten cold, I'd have a real over'aulin' of things.'
'I'll think of it,' said Geordie. And that very afternoon he tackled Brose.
'The gear's tolerable rotten, sir,' he began. And the second greaser knew he was right and yet didn't like to say so. He yearned to curse him.
'And I'm thinkin',' said Geordie, 'it would be a good thing to get up new stuff and overhaul everything. I risks my life every time I goes aloft. The very reef earings would part if a school-girl yanked at 'em.'
'You'd better speak to Mr. Ware,' said Brose, choking.
And at eight bells Geordie spoke to the chief officer, who was quite as anxious as the skipper to keep his billet. 'It shall be done, Mister Potts,' said Ware.