"'They'll have to revise the census of Aranuka,' says Bull
McGinty. I do believe we hit that girl an' drove her under.'
"We was both rubberin' astern an' to starboard an' port, but not
a sign o' the girl do we see. I got out my glasses an' searched
around for full half an hour, an' by that time we was five miles
out to sea, and it wasn't no use lookin' any more, an' besides I
had work to attend to.
"We sailed along all the afternoon, over a sea as smooth as a
dance-hall floor. Along about sunset I was up on the fo'castle
head singin' 'Nancy Brown' when who should pop up onto the
bowsprit but Pinky. She sat there a minute danglin' her legs an'
smilin' an' s'help me, Mac, if it hadn't been daylight still, I'd
a-swore she was a sperrit. I jumped two feet in the air an' came
down with my mouth open. Pinky hops up on the bowsprit, and runs
along to the fo'castle head, an' then I seen she was real. The
little cuss! She'd swung herself up into the martingale, an'
there she'd squatted all the afternoon until we was out o' sight
o' land. Of course, she got a ducking every few minutes, but
what's a duckin' to them kind o' people?
"I grabs hold o' Pinky, mighty glad to know we hadn't killed her,
and brings her before Bull McGinty.
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