He hoisted himself on deck up a perpendicular ladder, and stumbled aft, over a score of obstructions, to where a small, thick-set, clean-shaven man with grey eyebrows sat on a step that led up to the quarter-deck.

The swell had passed in the night, leaving a long, oily sea, dotted round the horizon with the sails of a dozen fishing-boats.

Between them lay little black specks, showing where the dories were out fishing.

The schooner, with a triangular riding-sail on the mainmast, played easily at anchor, and except for the man by the cabin-roof--"house" they call it--she was deserted.
"Mornin'-- good afternoon, I should say.

You've nigh slep' the clock around, young feller," was the greeting.
"Mornin'," said Harvey.