We were having our own recreation up on deck. I was to the wheel, of course, and as long as I hung on there I was all right. But Wheezer had to stay forward to keep a lookout. We didn't have any lights, and we didn't want any wandering craft to be running over us in the dark and drizzle. Wheezer wanted to climb up the hammer hoist to get out of the way of the seas, but wasn't too sure he wouldn't come down and go any minute over the side with it. He wound up by lashing himself to a weather-deck bitt and letting most of the water in the Gulf of Mexico flow over him. Being, as he said, a diver by trade, 'twas no strange thing for him to be under water, but being under this way, he said he missed the air-tube. In the middle of it he remembered he forgot to say good-by to his partner at the dance-hall. "If anything happens us, I hope she won't think I came out here to get lost a-purpose to get away from her," said Wheezer. From time to time Scoot stuck out his head to make sure we weren't yet washed overboard, and to report on the leaks; and also on William T. Scoot wouldn't call William any Olympic champion with a shovel, but--doubtless we had noticed it--he was producing steam. Which was so. Four miles an hour was all we ever figured on driving the _Happy Day_ across smooth harbor routes, and here she was banging out that many in a seaway on the open gulf, making fair allowance, of course, for the side slips. She was all right, the old _Happy_, and she brought us at daybreak to Horseshoe Shoal and the _Yucatan_, she still with her bow fast but her stern loose to the seas. Without wasting any time, I laid the _Happy Day_ alongside, and Wheezer was about to go aboard her when he was met at the gangway by a cat. Wheezer always did have a terrible respect for the laws of the sea. "Ain't there some law about ship's cats?" he asks now; and Scoot digs out his case and adjusts his glasses, and after a little meditation says: "There are, Wheezer, many superstitions and traditions connected with the sea. A marvellous vehicle of misinformation and credulous belief, the sea. Reflect on the vogue which sea-serpents have enjoyed. Reflect on how the ferocity of sharks has been exaggerated. It is doubtless the fact, Wheezer, that jaded imaginations thankfully accepted these ancient fallacies to render more startling the dénouement of their dramas. To such, doubtless, do we owe the invention of the cat on abandoned ships to frustrate the hopes of those who would claim honest salvage." Scoot took another breath. "It is usually a black cat, but even so for a cat to rank before the law as the equal of a human creature is absurd. This, I perceive" (Scoot let the back of his head settle on to his shoulder so's to have a good look) "is not a black but a gray cat, Wheezer--a lean, gray feline. In the days of the ancient Persians, Wheezer, a gray cat was a symbol of----"