We had run into the southeast trade and were reaching along to the southward under skysails. It was just seven bells and O’Toole, the first mate, had half an hour more of his watch on deck. The evening was clear, and the lumpy little trade-clouds flew merrily away to the northwest. Not even a skysail halyard had been touched for a week, so O’Toole lounged carelessly fore and aft on the quarter-deck, stopping at every turn when he reached the skipper to see if he had anything to say.

In good weather Captain Green’s discipline was not too strict, and he would often talk to the officer on watch. “I was thinking,” said he, without taking his eyes from the horizon-line, “about this transportation or emigration of souls you hear so much about nowadays. You know what I mean,—one person’s soul getting the weather-gauge of another’s; and do you know, by Gorry, I believe there’s some truth in it”

“Sure! No fear, ’pon me whurd; I know it’s a fact,” said O’Toole.

“There’s no doubt of it.”

“I was just thinking av a case in hand, an’, ’pon me whurd, ’twas typical av th’ machination. D’ye remember owld man Crojack? But ye must, fer he was one av th’ owld shell-back wind-jammers av yer time, an’ a man to decorate a quarter-deck.

“Ye remember th’ time he took Mr. Jones to Chaney? That’s th’ case in hand. ’Twas transmigration av sowl fer sowl, sure.

“He was a contumacious rask’l, this Jones, an’ ’twas by this token I came to like him.

“His governor offered Crojack one thousand dollars if he would take him to sea an’ bring him back again minus th’ unaccountable thirst he had fer iced wines an’ owld liquors. An’ th’ owld man did it.

“There was money enough in th’ Jones family. But that is where th’ trouble came in. Th’ young divil must have had nigh onto a ton av stuff sent outside th’ bar to meet us th’ day we sailed. Bottles av all kinds came over th’ rail whin th’ owld man lay th’ topsail to th’ mast an’ waited to see what th’ small boat ahead av us wanted. Crojack didn’t object, fer he reckoned to lock th’ stuff in th’ lazarette an’ sell it at a fair figure in Hong-Kong. I remember th’ outfly th’ youngster made over th’ grub. We were living better than any ship in th’ Chaney trade, an’ more like a man-o’-war than any trader afloat, but nothing would do him.

“Wan morning he came to th’ owld man an’ said there was a bug in his bunk. ‘Likely as not,’ said Crojack; ‘’pon me sowl, there’s wan in mine.’