Among the officers of the ship, the men had but one whom they could look upon as a friend,--John Gow, the second mate, a youngish man from the Orkney Islands. A capable sailor was John Gow, yet never too busy to sympathize a moment with the miseries of his men, nor too much the officer to spend a kindly word on an outcast crew. But what could a second mate do? Was he not simply a block for his superiors to kick with the expectancy that he would pass the compliment on to his subordinates? Exactly. “As we eat, so shall we work.” John Gow heard the slogan spreading like a kind of vocal slow match to the powder magazine of disaster and only smiled. When the beeswax and other cargo was in, the unmistakable notice of departure appeared in the formal reception by the captain of his charterers. The gentlemen came aboard in their best clothes and were escorted to the quarter-deck, where an awning had been spread against the sun, and a cluster of wine bottles glowed with their purple prophecy of comfort. From the waist and forward, eyes of envy and dislike turned furtively on the pleasant company aft, merry now in the exchange of compliments. “We’re starting,” cried a youth, plaintively, “and there’s no victuals aboard.” Old Paterson was not going home on an empty belly. If he knew anything in this world, he knew that much. Around him clumped a group of seamen, and somehow, probably with little premeditation, they suddenly started aft and shocked their captain by intruding on the sanctity of the quarter-deck. The merchants leaned back from their bottles and looked as though they thought the end of the world had come. Simply unheard of! Old Paterson bowed and scraped politely. “Cap’n,” he began, with the habitually humble voice before authority, “we’re on short allowance. We hope your honor ain’t agoin’ home without proper victuals aboard.” His supporters growled their amen. The captain, hardly holding himself in from hurling a chair, a bottle, a tackle block or anything handy at the presumptuous faces before him, rose up and frigidly replied that there was a steward aboard who had the care of the provisions and all complaints would be properly redressed. The tarry gang tumbled back to their proper sphere, leaving the captain in a muddle of embarrassment and suspicion,--embarrassment for his fractured dignity, suspicion because the intrusion indicated a perhaps germinating rebellion. Old Paterson leered at his guard of honor. “As we eat, so shall we work.” The merchants in polite course quitted the ship, and the captain, without commenting on the incident of the afternoon, ordered the anchor up and the sails shaken out. They were starting, and there was not a square meal for one, let alone twenty-four men aboard. Short--shorter--shortest allowance all the way home.