Of the friends that Jack had made on board the receiving-ship, there was only one among his top-mates,--Bob Rushington. All three of them had been rated as petty-officers; for they were really superior hands. Bob was a captain of the mizzen-top, Ben Blinks was a captain of the main-top, and Tom Longstone was a quartermaster. “What are you thinking about, Jack?” said Bob, when they had been in the top about half an hour, during which time his companions had been carrying on a conversation in a low tone. “I was thinking of home,” replied Jack. “Wishing you were there,” added Bob. “No: not exactly.” “You ought to brought your ma with you,” added Sam Becket with a low, chuckling laugh. “I’m not homesick,--I hope, not yet,” said Jack; “but it is pleasant to think of home.” “So it is--to babies,” sneered Sam. “You haven’t got larn’t yet, my lad.” “I never shall learn to forget my home.” “Yes, you will; just clew down your ideas, and be a man-of-war’s man. Milk for babies, rum for men, my lad. Have you got any coppers in your pocket, my boy?” “I have three,” answered Jack, thrusting his hand down into the depths of his trousers-pocket. “Do you want them?” “Perhaps I do: that will depend upon circumstances. Do you see my hand, Jack,” said Sam Becket; “if you can’t, you can feel it: there it is.” “Well, what of it?” “Odd or even?” continued Sam. “Odd,” replied Jack, not understanding the purpose of his companion. “Odd it is: there are three of ’em, and they are yours;” and Sam took Jack’s hand, and attempted to place the cents in it. “What do you mean by that?” demanded our hero. “What do I mean? Don’t you know a boom from a bobstay? You said odd, and the coppers are yours. You won them.” “Won them!” exclaimed Jack: “I don’t want to gamble.” “Hush up! Do you want to tell the officer of the deck what we are about!” protested Sam in an energetic whisper. “I’m perfectly willing to tell him what I’m about.” “Well, you young monkey, I should think you were hailing a frigate in a nor’-wester. You are as green as a yaller squash-bug. Here take the coppers: they belong to you; you won them.” “I never gamble,” repeated Jack resolutely, but in a lower tone than before. “Take ’em, Jack, or you’re my enemy.” “I cannot take them. I’d rather go into the brig for a week than gamble for a single cent.” “Silence in the mizzen-top!” said Mr. Midshipman Dickey, who had been pacing the lee side of the quarter-deck, in the capacity of aide-de-camp to Mr. Granger, the officer of the deck. “There, you young milksop!” said Sam in an angry whisper. “Do you see what you have done?” “Avast there, Becket!” interposed the captain of the top. “Don’t get up a quarrel with the lad. He means right.” “I won’t have no quarrel with him; but he won the money, and he must take it, or he is my enemy.”