"Let the brute go!" I shouted, as soon as I got my head above water, and we swam to the dinghy and clung on to her keel. It was a jolly uncomfortable position, for the water was very cold, and the waves kept washing over us, and it was mighty hard work clinging to that three inches of wood keel. With all my clothes on, and my boots too, I seemed to weigh a ton, and but for Jones catching hold of me every now and then whenever a wave came along I should have been washed away. We were not left there long, though, for one of the _Laird’s_ cutters was quite close and came alongside, dropping down from wind’ard, Mellins—good old Mellins—with a grin of delight, standing up in the stern and taking care that we were not struck by the oars. They hauled us aboard, and then we got hold of the dinghy’s painter and towed her back to "No. 3". Mellins, being a chum of mine, and an awfully good chap, first hunted round and fished all her bottom boards and her sculls and boat-hook out of the water, for I dare not go back without them, because Mr. Parker would have been so angry. We all were horribly cold by the time we scrambled up the side of "No. 3", and, never thinking of anything else except to change into dry things, I was just going to dive down below, when Mr. Parker hallooed out to me; "Hoist your boat immediately, you young idiot! I’ll teach you to capsize my dinghy!" We got it inboard presently, working at the little derrick winch till we were almost warm again, and then I ran down to Mr. Parker’s cabin to report "all correct". "He really ought to be rather pleased", I thought, for we had lost none of the boat’s gear; but I had forgotten that I was still dripping with water, and wherever I stood a puddle of water formed immediately. Mr. Parker, seeing the mess I was making on his cabin deck, flew into a great rage, and ordered me to go on deck, take all my things off, and then report to him. "What the dickens do you mean by making my cabin in such a state?" It didn’t take a minute to slip off all my sloppy clothes, and I went down again with nothing on but my cap, which somehow or other had stuck on my head all the time I was in the water. "You’ve lost everything out of her, I suppose?" he said angrily, though he seemed rather amused at my appearance. "Here I send you away to pick up people, and you have the cheek to capsize my boat and make yourself and ’No. 3’ a laughing-stock!" "I’m very sorry, sir," I told him, "but they did struggle so, and we didn’t lose anything out of her, sir, not even her stern grating; we picked them all up." "All right, Glover, don’t do it again." You can imagine that, as I stood there shivering, with my cap in my hand and not a stitch of clothes on, I wasn’t very anxious to repeat the experiment. "I didn’t intend you to report to me like that," he added, smiling again. "Now, dry yourself," and he threw me one of his big bath-towels, "and when you are dry, climb into my bunk and get warm."