He added up the column of figures again. But he had made no mistake. He seemed perplexed. "I don't see how it is possible to scratch off anything," he said. "You'll need every one of these articles." He puckered his brow, bit the end of his pencil, and studied the figures. It was evidently a puzzling problem. "Well," he said at last, "I'll tell you what I'll do. Bring me down a few curios from the Arctic and I'll call it square." I suppose my outfit was really worth about $6--not over $10. As soon as my bag had been packed, I was escorted to the wharf by the runner and rowed out to the brig. As I prepared to climb over the ship's rail, the runner shook me by the hand and clapped me on the back with a great show of cordial goodfellowship. "Don't forget my curios," he said. CHAPTER II THE MEN OF THE "ALEXANDER" The brig _Alexander_ was a staunch, sea-worthy little vessel. She had no fine lines; there was nothing about her to please a yachtsman's eye; but she was far from being a tub as whaling ships are often pictured. She was built at New Bedford especially for Arctic whaling. Her hull was of sturdy oak, reinforced at the bows to enable her to buck her way through ice. Though she was called a brig, she was really a brigantine, rigged with square sails on her fore-mast and with fore-and-aft sails on her main. She was of only 128 tons but quite lofty, her royal yard being eighty feet above the deck. On her fore-mast she carried a fore-sail, a single topsail, a fore-top-gallant sail, and a royal; on her main-mast, a big mainsail with a gaff-topsail above it. Three whale boats--starboard, larboard, and waist boats--hung at her davits. Amidships stood the brick try-works equipped with furnaces and cauldrons for rendering blubber into oil. As soon as I arrived on board I was taken in charge by the ship keeper and conducted to the forecastle. It was a dark, malodorous, triangular hole below the deck in the bows. At the foot of the ladder-like stairs, leading down through the scuttle, I stepped on something soft and yielding. Was it possible, I wondered in an instant's flash of surprise, that the forecastle was laid with a velvet carpet? No, it was not. It was only a Kanaka sailor lying on the floor dead drunk. The bunks were ranged round the walls in a double tier. I selected one for myself, arranged my mattress and blankets, and threw my bag inside. I was glad to get back to fresh air on deck as quickly as possible.