During one of these latter the little Jew was half awakened.

He stopped snoring, leaving an abrupt silence in the air.

Then Vandover could hear him threshing about uneasily; still half asleep he began to mutter and swear: "Dat's it, r-roll; I woult if I were you; r-roll, dat's righd--dhere, soh--ah, geep it oop--r-roll, you damnt ole tub, yust _r-r-roll_." The continued pitching, the foul air, and the bitter smoke from the saloonkeepers' cigars became more than Vandover could stand.

His stomach turned, at every instant he gagged and choked.

He suddenly made up his mind that he could stand it no longer, and determined to go on deck, preferring to walk the night out rather than spend it in the cabin.