“‘Still on that course?’ I asked, when I’d seen ’twas so. ‘Where’s the Skipper?’ “‘Here,’ said the Skipper himself from between the house and the weather rail, where he was still watching that nobody bothered the halyards, I s’pose. ‘What’s it?’ “‘How about the course?’ I asked. “‘What’s wrong with the course?’ “‘No’west by west half west--is it right?’ “‘No’west by west half west, or whatever it is--yes. And why not?’ “‘Oh, nothin’, if you say it’s right.’ “‘And why isn’t it right? Why not? Why don’t you spit it out? What’s wrong, anyway?’ “‘What’s wrong?’ I said. ‘Don’t you know we warn’t much more than three hundred miles off shore on this course when we swung her off last night, and we’ve been coming along now for twenty-three hours--and the clip she’s been coming!’ “He said nothing to that for a while, and then it was, ‘And so you don’t think the course is right?’ “‘No, I don’t--not if you’re intending to make Gloucester.’ “‘That so? Not if I was intending to make Gloucester? And where in the name o’ heaven am I headin’ for if not Gloucester?’ “‘Where? where? Damned if I know,’ says I. ‘Hell, maybe.’ “‘That so? Well, Gloucester or hell, drive her you.’ “‘Oh, I’ll drive her.’ I threw it back in his teeth that way, spat to looard, took a fresh hold of the wheel, and did drive her just to let him know he couldn’t scare me. Cripes, but I gave her all she wanted! “It was wicked, though, the way she was going. She warn’t a big sailer, the _Cromwell_-- George Hoodley never did believe in the racing kind--but any old plug could’ve sailed that night. Along toward midnight it got thick o’ snow, I mind, and we came near running into a vessel hove-to under a fores’l. ‘A fisherman!’ Dan for’ard called out, and as we shot by her a warning hail came to us. “‘What’s that he said?’ asked the Skipper of Dan. “‘Something about where we’re bound for,’ answered Dan. “‘That so? What’s it of his business?’ and went below for a spell. “From the wheel I could see him taking another drink under the cabin light. He had got to where he wasn’t bothering to pour it into a mug, but took it straight from the bottle--long pulls, too. He came on deck again just as my watch and Dan’s was up. To Charlie Feeney, who was next man to the wheel, I said that the Skipper ought to be spoken to about hauling her up. So Charlie did. “‘Who in the devil’s name is skipper of this vessel, anyway?’ was all the answer he got. “Henry Carsick, who was Charlie’s dory-mate, said he didn’t know what to make of it. ‘I’m blessed if ever I knew him to carry half this sail in a breeze before, and I’ve been with him three years,’ said he to me as he went for’ard.