"Yah!" cried the boatswain. "We should never get it again. It's gone, and it give me quite a heartache to use up new ship's stores like that. But what I was going to say was, that the skipper will be saddersfied enough when we get back and tell him that Mr Burnett's crippled the big gun." "Oh, but that was the easy job," said Fitz. "It was just play, lifting out that block and dropping it overboard." "And a very pretty game too, Mr Burnett, sir," said the boatswain, chuckling. "But I say, seems quite to freshen a man up to be able to open his mouth and speak. While you two young gents was swarming up that anchor, and all the time you was aboard till you come back plish, plosh, I felt as if I couldn't breathe. I say, Mr Poole, would you like to take these 'ere lines?" "No," said Poole shortly; "I want to get dry. But why do you want me to take the lines?" "To get shut of the 'sponsibility, sir. I can't see which way to steer." "Oh, never mind the steering," cried Fitz. "Just keep her head to the swell, and let's all rest, my lads. I feel so done up that I could go to sleep. We can't do anything till daylight. Here, I say, Camel, did you bring anything to eat?" "The orders were to bring the rations stowed inside, sir," replied the cook; "but a'm thenking I did slip a wee bit something into the locker for'ard there, juist ahind where ye are sitting, sir. Would you mind feeling? Hech! I never thought of that!" "Thought of what?" said Fitz. "Ye've got the ship's carpenter there, and he's got a nose like a cat for feesh. Awm skeart that he smelt it oot in the dairk and it's all gone." "Haw, haw!" chuckled the carpenter. "You are wrong this time, Andy. I got my smelling tackle all choked up with the stuff the bearings of that gunboat's fan was oiled with--nasty rank stuff like Scotch oil. I don't believe I shall smell anything else for a week." _Rap_! went the lid of the little locker. "It's all right, my lads," cried Fitz. "Here, Andy, man, those who hide can find. Come over here and serve out the rations; but I wish we'd got some of your hot prime soup." "Ay, laddie," said the cook softly, as he obeyed his orders; "it would ha' been juist the thing for such a wetting as you got with your joomp. Mr Poole, will ye come here too? I got one little tin with enough for you and Mr Poole, and a big one for the lads and mysen. But I'm vairy sorry to say I forgot the saut." "He needn't have troubled himself about the salt," said Poole softly. "I should never have missed it. You and I have taken in enough to-night through our pores." "Yes," said Fitz.--"Splendid, Andy." "Ah," said the Camel; "I never haud wi' going upon a journey, however short, wi'out something in the way of food." CHAPTER FIFTY TWO. FITZ'S CONSCIENCE PRICKS.