And still Blaker bellowed scripture down the wind. He was still bellowing, though what he bellowed wasn't scripture, when Simpson and Wiggins took him down below after five minutes of a row in which the deposed captain showed something of his ancient form as the terror of the Western Ocean. As they went, the admiral, now promoted to being captain of a Cape Horner, picked up the battered speaking trumpet and wiped some blood from his face, which had been in collision. "Up aloft with you and make those topsails fast," he roared. "Look alive, men, look alive!" And they did look alive, for "Dicky" Dunn never needed a speaking trumpet in any wind that ever blew. When things were snugged down and the _California_ was walking north at an easy but tremendous gait, he felt like a man again. He turned to Simpson and Wiggins with a happy smile. "Now we're comfortable, and things are as they should be, Mr. Simpson, let the men have a tot of grog. And how's Mr. Blaker?" "Wa'al," said Simpson cheerfully, "when we left him he warn't exactly what you would call religious nor resigned." But if Blaker was not happy, the admiral was thoroughly delighted. "Now you see what I said was true," he declared at dinner that night; "if I hadn't been an admiral and a man born to rise, how could I have been shipped on board this ship as a foremast hand and come to be captain in six weeks? I'll be bound you never heard of a similar case, Mr. Simpson." And Simpson never had. "Was it Shanghai Smith, do you think, as put you here?" he asked. The admiral had heard of Shanghai Smith in the foc'sle. "When I get back I'll find out," he said. "And if it was, I'll not trouble the law, Mr. Simpson. I never allow any man to handle me without getting more than even." "You don't," said Simpson. If his manner was dry, it was sincere. "But I don't bear malice afterwards. Your health, Mr. Simpson. This kind of trade breeds good seamen, after all. But you are all a trifle rough." Simpson explained that they had to be. "When the owners' scheme is to have one man do three men's work, they have to get men who will make 'em do it. And when the owners get a bad name and their ships a worse, then men like Shanghai Smith have to find us crews. If you could get back to San Francisco and hammer an owner, some of us would be obliged to you, sir." "Ah, when I get back!" said the admiral. "This will be a remarkable yarn for me to tell, Mr. Simpson. I still feel in a kind of dream. Would you oblige me by going to Mr. Blaker and telling him that if he continues to hammer at that door I'll have the hose turned on him." And when Simpson went to convey this message, the admiral put his feet on the table and indulged in a reverie. "I'll make a note about Shanghai Smith, and settle with him in full. But I shall rise higher yet. I know it's in me. Steward!" "Yes, sir," said the steward. "I think I'll have some grog."