That of his critic was based upon practice and hard experience.

He cited this skipper and that as examples, and carried them through no'theasters off Hatteras and typhoons in the Indian Ocean.
The room, in spite of the open window, grew thick with pipe smoke, and the argument was punctuated by thumps on the desk and chair arms, and illustrated by diagrams drawn by the captain's forefinger on the side of the dresser.

The effects of oil on breaking rollers, the use of a "sea-anchor" over the side to "hold her to it," whether or not a man was justified in abandoning his ship under certain given circumstances, these were debated pro and con.

Always Pearson's "Uncle Jim" was held up as the final authority, the paragon of sea captains, by the visitor, and, while his host pretended to agree, with modest reservations, in this estimate of his relative, he was more and more certain that his hero was bound to become a youthful edition of Elisha Warren himself--and he thanked the fates which had brought this fine, able, old-school mariner to his door.
At length, Captain Elisha, having worked "Uncle Jim" into a safe harbor after a hundred mile cruise under jury jig, with all hands watch and watch at the pumps, leaned forward in triumph to refill his pipe.

Having done so, his eyes remained fixed upon a photograph standing, partially hidden by a leather collar box, upon the dresser.