“A pretty safe adventure for you,” said the girl scornfully. “You didn’t risk much. Look here, I like brave men. If you go in the cage and undo that bear, I’ll marry you. That’s what I call an adventure.”
“Smith,” called the skipper quietly, “come and take the helm a bit.”
The seaman obeyed, and Lewis, accompanied by the girl, walked forward.
At the bear’s cage he stopped, and, fumbling in his pocket for the key, steadily regarded the brute as it lay gnashing its teeth, and trying in vain to bite the ropes which bound it.
“You’re afraid,” said the girl tauntingly; “you’re quite white.”
The captain made no reply, but eyed her so steadily that her gaze fell. He drew the key from his pocket and inserted it in the huge lock, and was just turning it, when a soft arm was drawn through his, and a soft voice murmured sweetly in his ear, “Never mind about the old bear.”
And he did not mind.
THE COOK OF THE “GANNET”
All ready for sea, and no cook,” said the mate of the schooner Gannet, gloomily. “What’s become of all the cooks I can’t think.”
“They most on ’em ship as mates now,” said the skipper, grinning. “But you needn’t worry about that; I’ve got one coming aboard to-night. I’m trying a new experiment, George.”