His hat was torn and broken, and his clothes, stained with tar and dirt, shrunken and wrinkled by sea-water.

His shoes were fastened with bits of tarred rope; he was wearing a red flannel shirt with bone buttons which the boatkeeper on the pilot boat had given him, tied at the neck with a purple handkerchief of pongee silk; his hair was long, and a week's growth of beard was upon his lip and cheeks.
"That's a fact," he answered grimly.

"I do look queer.

I was in a wreck down the coast," he added hastily.
"The _Mazatlan!_" exclaimed Toby.

"That's a fact; the papers have been full of it.