"You owns wot?" demanded Brose; and the rest of the men edged as near as they dared. [Illustration: "BROSE SHOOK HIS MATE ONCE MORE."] "He's drunk still," said Braby, as Brose shook his mate once more. "I owns the bally _Patriarch_," screamed Geordie, "and all the rest of 'em, and all my uncle's richness, and I won't be shook, I won't!" And Brose let him go. "You're mad," said Brose, "you're mad." "I ain't," roared Geordie, who was fast recovering from the shock, "I ain't. Take these; read 'em--read 'em out; let the skipper read 'em. I owns the _Patriarch_ and the _Palermo_ and the _Proosian_ and the whole line. The lawyer says so!" He put the lot of damp letters into Mr. Brose's hands and sat down on the spare top-mast lashed under the rail. "There's letters for the captain 'ere," said Brose, suspiciously; "'ow did you get 'em?" "'Twas a youngster from the office give 'em me," replied Geordie, "and I took a drink first, and there was one for me, and it said so--said I was the owner, said it plain." And when Brose had read the opened letter he gasped too and went aft to see the skipper. The rest of the watch gathered round Geordie and spoke in awe-struck whispers. "Is it true, Geordie?" "Gospel," said Geordie. "It's swore to. They sends me two hundred quid in a paper." "Show us," said the starbowlines, "show us." "'Tis in the paper the second has," said Geordie. "It's wrote, 'Pay George Potts, Esq., two hundred quid on the nail.'" "I'd never 'ave let the second 'ave it," said Braby. "Like as not 'e'll keep it." "Then I'll sack him," said Geordie, firmly. "Let him dare try to keep it, and I'll sack him and not pay him no wages." "This is a very strange game, this is," said Braby. "I never 'eard tell of the likes. Did they put 'Esk' on your letter?" "They done so," said Geordie. "I've seen uncle's letters and they done so to him." "Then it must be true," said Braby. "They only puts 'Esk' on gents' letters." And Williams, the steward, was observed coming for'ard scratching his head. "Where the deuce am I?" asked Williams, "and wot's the game? I'm sent by the captain to say, 'Will Mr. Potts step into the cabin?'" They all looked at Geordie. "Mr. Potts? Why, that's you, Geordie." "I s'pose it must be," said the owner. "Must I go, mates?" "Of course," cried Braby. But Geordie fidgeted. "I could go in if we were painting of her cabin," he murmured; "but to talk with the skipper----" That evidently disgruntled him. "'Tis your own cabin any'ow," said Braby. "I'd walk in like a lord." "Well, I s'pose I must," said Geordie, reluctantly, and he went aft with Williams. "And you're the owner?" asked Williams. Geordie sighed. "So it seems, stooard," he admitted. "It licks creation," said Williams.