Gibney, and released his hold on
Captain Scraggs, who instantly threw his arms around the
navigating officer's burly neck. "I forgive you, Adelbert," he
crooned. "I forgive you freely. By the tail of the Great Sacred
Bull, you're a marvel. She's an all-night fog or I'm a Chinaman,
and if it only stays thick enough----"
"It'll hold," Gibney retorted doggedly. "It's a tule fog. They
always hold. Quit huggin' me. Your breath's bad. Them eggs, I
guess."
Captain Scraggs, hurled forcibly backward, bumped into the pilot
house, but lost none of his enthusiasm. "You're a jewel," he
declared. "Oh, man, what a head! Whatever made you think of the
_Yankee Prince_?"
"Because," Mr. Gibney answered calmly, "there ain't no such ship,
this land of ours bein' a free republic where princes don't grow.
Still, it's a nice name, Scraggs, old tarpot--more particular
since I thought it up in a hurry. Eh, what?"
"Halvorsen," cried Captain Scraggs.
The lone deckhand emerged from a hole in the freight forward
whither he had retreated to escape the vegetable barrage put over
by Captain Scraggs when McGuffey left the ship. "Aye, aye, sir,"
he boomed.
"All hands below to the galley!" Scraggs shouted.
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