He touched his cap and went forward to the foc'sle to enter into his kingdom. For Knight had been "topside joss" there for three voyages, being the only man who had ever succeeded in getting even one pay-day out of the _California_. The principle on which she was run was to make things so hot for her crew that they skipped out at New York instead of returning to San Francisco, and the fresh crew shipped in New York did the same when they got inside the Golden Gate. "I understand," said the admiral, as he stood in the middle of the foc'sle, "that the gentleman I've just had the pleasure of knocking into the middle of next week was the head bully here. Now I want it thoroughly understood in future that if any bullying is to be done, I'm going to do it." All the once obedient slaves of the deposed Knight hastened to make their peace with the new power. They fairly crawled to the admiral. "You kin fight," said one. "I knew it jest so soon as you opened yer mouth," said another. "The tone of yer voice argued you could." "It's my belief that he could knock the stuffin' out o' Mr. Simpson," said the third. "'Twould be the best kind of fun," said another admirer of the powers that be, "for Blaker would kick Simpson in here, and give the admiral his job right off. He's got religion, has Blaker, but he was an old packet rat himself, and real 'bucko' he was, and believes in the best men bein' aft." And though the admiral said nothing to this, he remembered it, and took occasion to inquire into its truth. He found that what he knew of the sea and its customs was by no means perfect. He learnt something every day, and not least from Knight, who proved by no means a bad sort of man when he had once met his match. "Is it true," asked the admiral, "what they say about Captain Blaker giving any one the mate's job if he can thrash him?" "It used to be the custom in the Western Ocean," said Knight, "and Blaker was brought up there. He's a real sport, for all his bein' sort of religious. Yes, I'll bet it's true." He turned to the admiral suddenly. "Say, you wasn't thinkin' of takin' Simpson on, was you?" "If what's you say's true, I was," said the admiral. "It don't suit me being here." "Say now, partner," put in Knight, "what's this guff about your being an admiral? What put it into your head?" And Sir Richard Dunn laughed. As he began to feel his feet, and find that he was as good a man in new surroundings as in the old ones, he recovered his courage and his command of himself. "After all, this will be the deuce of a joke when it's over," he thought, "and I don't see why I shouldn't get a discharge out of her as mate. Talk about advertisement!" He knew how much it meant. "Look here, Knight," he said aloud, "I am an admiral. I can't prove it, but my ship was the _Triumphant_. I don't want to force it down your throat, but if you'd say you believe it, I should be obliged to you." Knight put out his hand.