“Do you want me to hold you up,” he fumed, “as well as do all the work in this galley? This comes of goin’ to sea with babies! It’s a cradle you ought to have. Me and the mate will take turns rockin’ you to sleep. I’d never have come aboard this packet if I’d known you’d be―― Come here,” he added, softening suddenly, noticing a red stain on Dave’s shirt-sleeve. “You’re an idiot, that’s what you are. Why didn’t you tell me you’d hurt yourself?” He rolled up the boy’s sleeve and found a cut which, while not serious, was causing considerable pain. With a tenderness that even Dave had not suspected Barnes capable of, the cook bathed and bandaged it, leaving the dinner to take care of itself until he had finished. “Allus keep the dirt out of a cut, kid,” he said, “if you haven’t got brains enough to keep out of cutting yourself, which you haven’t.” As that day wore on the sea grew worse, and Barnes quietly took on to his own shoulders a good many of the boy’s duties, for in spite of his incessant, vitriolic grumbling, he knew well enough that Dave was a willing worker, and an exceptionally useful one considering that he was a “first tripper.” Moreover it was only with difficulty now, in spite of his many years of experience, that Barnes could move about while the ship was playing such antics. “You’d better turn in, youngster,” he said during the evening. “There’s nothing much for you to do.” “Thanks, Mr. Barnes,” Dave said limply, profoundly grateful for the chance of getting to his bunk. He was making his way for’ard and feeling extremely sick, when he encountered Mr. Quick. The wild sea had aroused all the man-driving quality in the mate, who promptly put the lad to cleaning the chain-locker, which happened to be the most disagreeable task he could think of at the moment. David Hallard came of stubborn stock, and the situation had to be pretty desperate for him to admit to himself that he was beaten, but by the time he was able to crawl into his berth he had a craving to be home, in his own bed, in the house that did not sway and try to turn somersaults, and where there were no chain-lockers. It was the worst hour of the gale, and Dave, though not actually frightened, was more than a little awed. Added to that, his arm hurt a good deal. And besides the seasickness, which alone was enough to make him intensely miserable, he had the recent memory of Mr. Quick’s deliberate unkindness. The rolling of the steamer kept him awake for hours, during which he made a grim resolution. After that his mind became easier and he dropped off to sleep. Next morning, to his great joy, the boy found the gale had almost abated, and though a heavy sea was still running, the ship was riding much more easily. His resolution involved one point which puzzled him, and after a while he decided to consult the cook. “I want to ask your advice, Mr. Barnes,” he said. “I’ve made up my mind to do something.”