man cook burst out on the deck. He was carrying a plate of meat-scraps, and behind him, growling and snarling, came Grit, his legs working in and out like the pistons of a steam engine. But, as the animal's legs were short, and as the cook had long ones, the race might not prove so unequal.
"What's the matter?" cried Dick. "Stand still, Hans! Grit won't hurt you!"
"He vunt; hey?" cried the German. "VeLl, I ain't goin' to take no chances—no, sir, Herr Hamilton! I runs; dot's vot I do! Stop chasin' me!" the cook cried, turning to glance at Grit. But this nearly proved disastrous for him, as he stumbled over a rope, and only recovered himself as Grit almost reached him.
"What does he want?" shouted Dick. "Here, Grit! Stop it! Come here! What does he want, Hans?"
"He vants me, but, py Jimminity, he don't got me, not if I knows it alretty yet!" responded the German. "I fools him!" and with that the cook, dropping his plate of meat, sprang up into the shrouds of the aftermast.
At once Grit lost interest in the chase, and stopped to eat the scraps of meat, while Hans looked down at him from his perch of safety.
"There, you see," said Dick, laughing. "The meat was all he wanted. Grit was hungry."
"Ha! I knows pretty veil alretty dot he vos
