Hunch, after looking it all over, chartered a tug, then returned to the schooner, where Bruce and Billy were waiting. He and Bruce had not been talkative of late. “Get everything tight, Bruce,” he said, jumping down upon the deck. “We're going out in half an hour.” “How about it, Hunch? Can we make it, think?” Hunch did not trouble to reply, and Bruce, as he worked along the deck, watched him nervously. Before the tug appeared, Hunch went ashore and crossed the wharf to a saloon at the corner. He returned with a jug, which he put in his bunk where the bedding would protect it when the schooner got to pitching. He sometimes drank whisky to steady his nerves when fighting a heavy sea. In a few minutes the tug came alongside. “Everything fast, Bruce?” Brace grunted, and Billy lifted the lines off the snubbin' posts and followed them aboard. They went out in tow, on a long hawser and under bare poles. When they were half a mile beyond the piers, wrenching and slapping through the seas, and shipping a deck-load from every second wave, Bruce came groping back to Hunch, who had the wheel. “How much farther are they going to take us, Hunch?” He had to shout to get his voice over the wind. “They'll be sticking us for a big bill.” “None o' your business,” growled Hunch. “I'd like to know why not. We're going back on my account.” “Shut up! I'm paying for this tow. Go up forward where you belong. Send Billy back.” When Billy appeared, working along the rail and bracing his feet when a wave came over, he said, “Bring up that jug in my bunk.” Billy brought it up and lashed it to the rail within Hunch's reach. Hunch began to drink. After a time he shouted to Bruce, who, with Billy's help, set to work on the sails. Both were cold from the duckings, and Bruce was in addition too excited to be of much use. Between them they bungled until Hunch lost his patience and, yelling to Bruce to take the wheel, he ran up the heaving deck and throwing his weight on the halyards, raised the foresail single-handed. Billy timidly watched him, expecting that he would reef heavily, but when he saw everything but the topsails go up flat, he looked around at the tug which was holding them up in the wind, then at Hunch who was making fast the mainsail peak; and then Billy, who was plucky enough on occasion, swallowed a lump in his throat, and turning forward, crossed himself hurriedly as he stood clinging to the weather-stays. They cut loose from the tug and swung off a few points, the schooner shivering and straining as she caught the wind, then heeling over with a rush. Hunch went storming back to the wheel. Bruce was wiping his mouth on his sleeve, bracing the wheel with one knee. The cork was out of the jug, and a little whiskey slopped out at each lurch of the schooner. Hunch stood for a moment without support, swaying, then sprang on Bruce and threw him against the closed gangway, where he lay clutching at the cabin roof.