Don't take your eye off 'm till you're quit of the last of 'm." At sight of big _Mister_ Haggin deserting him and being pulled away in the whaleboat, Jerry wriggled and voiced his anxiety in a low, whimpering whine.

Captain Van Horn snuggled him closer in his arm with a caress of his free hand.
"Don't forget the agreement," Tom Haggin called back across the widening water.

"If aught happens you, Jerry's to come back to me." "I'll make a paper to that same and put it with the ship's articles," was Van Horn's reply.
Among the many words possessed by Jerry was his own name; and in the talk of the two men he had recognised it repeatedly, and he was aware, vaguely, that the talk was related to the vague and unguessably terrible thing that was happening to him.

He wriggled more determinedly, and Van Horn set him down on the deck.

He sprang to the rail with more quickness than was to be expected of an awkward puppy of six months, and not the quick attempt of Van Horn to cheek him would have succeeded.