We've had kinder depressin' company." As the cook passed them a line, Dan told him the tale.
"Yess! He come for hiss knife," was all he said at the end.
Never had the little rocking _We're Here_ looked so deliciously home-like as when the cook, born and bred in fogs, rowed them back to her.

There was a warm glow of light from the cabin and a satisfying smell of food forward, and it was heavenly to hear Disko and the others, all quite alive and solid, leaning over the rail and promising them a first-class pounding.

But the cook was a black; master of strategy.

He did not get the dories aboard till he had given the more striking points of the tale, explaining as he backed and bumped round the counter how Harvey was the mascot to destroy any possible bad luck.
So the boys came override as rather uncanny heroes, and every one asked them questions instead of pounding them for making trouble.

Little Penn delivered quite a speech on the folly of superstitions; but public opinion was against him and in favour of Long Jack, who told the most excruciating ghost-stories, till nearly midnight.