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He ranged up astern of the Rosan with a cheery yell and let go

his anchor, ordering the dories over the side in the same breath.

But his aspirations received a chilling setback from none other

than Bijonah Tanner himself. The old man had been sleepless for a

week, trying to nose out the Lass for the top haul of the fleet,

and here was a young scapegrace who came and cast anchor within a

hundred yards of his chosen ground.

Nat laughed carelessly at the storm of abuse that rattled over

the stern of the Rosan and rowed over to her in his dory with the

package of mail.

"Forget it, papa," he said, easily insolent, as he climbed over

the rail in the teeth of a broadside. "We're not goin' to foul

your rodin' or steal your fish. I've just come to make a call and

tell you the news from home."

He handed Bijonah a couple of letters and a package containing

those of the men. Two others he kept in his hand.