In about a quarter of an hour Stetson took another look down the scuttle, and bellowed out, "Allen, are you coming on deck or not ?" "Ay, ay, sir; directly!" "If I have to go down after you, my good fellow, it will be worse for you, that's all." Allen remained sitting on the chest.

Day began to break.

Stetson was again heard at the entrance of the forecastle.

His patience, of which he had not a large stock, was exhausted.
"Come on deck, this instant, you lazy, lounging, big-shouldered renegade! Will you let other people do your work?
Show your broken head and your lovely battered features on deck at once in the twinkling of a handspike.

I want to see how you look after your frolic!" "Ay, ay, sir! I'm coming right up." "You lie, you rascal.