had something to growl about. He kept them working a quarter of an hour after knock-off time three times a week. He cut down their usual five shillings a week to a dollar, on the ground that he was reckoning in dollars just then. The fresh grub he sent on board was enough, as they said in the fo'c'sle, to make a pig take to fasting. And he nagged and growled without ceasing till Plump, the mate, who was a very decent fellow, hated him worse than the crew did. He listened to the second mate Dodman, when Dodman burst out into long-suppressed bad language.
"I oughtn't to agree with you, but I do, I own it freely," said Plump, as they stood against the poop-rail and watched Brogger pick his way through the mud on the wharf. "I ought to tell you to dry up, Mr. Dodman, but I find it hard to do my duty."
"He's a miserable, mean, measly, growling, discontented devil," said Dodman in a red heat, as he mopped his forehead. "Comes and tells me I ain't fit to stow mud in a mud-barge. Ain't it true when he was second in this same old Enchantress he stowed sugar on kerosine? And if the old swab can rig a double Spanish
