“Feel what--forty-eight? Man alive, what’s forty-eight to a man that’s never seen a sick day in his life?” “But you’ve taken great care o’ yourself, Martin.” “Well, maybe. A little regular smokin’ and a drink once in a while ashore, or maybe sittin’ up a night or two by way of bein’ sociable after weeks on end of this work out here.” “Could you stand to a mark and jump your ten foot six inches, toe to heel, like I see you do one time, Martin?” “No, I couldn’t. My joints aren’t that soople. But if I couldn’t go without sleep as long, or stay to my neck in the water as long, or go without grub even longer----” “That you could, Martin. ’Tis me ought to know that--me, that was three days and three nights astray with you on Quero. An’ when it comes to buckin’ agen wind and tide with a dory loaded to the gunnels----” “Hi-i! below there!” This from the deck. “Out dories!” With a sigh Martin set down his pipe and prepared to get into cardigan jacket, boots, and oilskins. “I must say I hates to leave my little pipeful”--and to his youthful dory-mate, dropping down from deck--“Isn’t it so with you, too, Eddie-boy?” “I could smoke all the time I’m awake, Martin.” “Like your father before you, boy. You’re cert’nly like your father other ways, too. But you’re not tough like him. Sad kind of, too, like he was at times, ’s if he could see things ahead. O Lord, but I did love your father, boy! And you cert’nly look like him. But, come along now. Your first trip at this work, and we must have things right.” * * * * * Martin’s dory, the first over the side, was dropped up to windward. To the Skipper’s last word, “Set to the east’ard, Martin--it don’t look none too good, but I’ll be back to you after I’ve run the string out,” Martin waved a free arm and nodded a cheerful acquiescence. The vessel left them astern. Martin began to heave the trawls and Eddie to row. There was a disquieting pitch and toss to the sea. Anybody but a trawler would have called it bad weather for a sixteen-foot dory to be out in. It was a much heavier sea than any Eddie had ever before tried to row a boat in, and he soon said so. “Yes,” answered Martin, “I s’pose it do seem hard at first--a banker’s dory in a chop--but after three or four days you won’t mind it. ’Tis the cross-tide that puts that little kick to it and slats her around so. And yet the safest small boat afloat is a dory--when it’s handled right. Here we are now, away out here in this little dory.” “And just where are we, Martin?”