Caught in a paroxysm at the weather
end of the bridge, Matt, in his agony, was patronizing the weather
rail! The captain heard him squawk, and ducked to avoid what instinct
told him the gale would bring him his way.
"Vat you ban tankin' of?" he roared furiously. "You damned landsman!
Don't you know enough to discharge dot cargo over der lee rail?"
Having disposed of a hearty breakfast, Matt raised his green face and
stared sheepishly at the Finn. "You didn't get sprayed, did you,
sir?" he queried breathlessly.
"No, but who der devil ever heard of a seaman gettin' sick to
windward--?"
"I know it looks awful, sir," quavered Matt. "I thought something
like this might happen, and in order to be prepared for eventualities
I hung a fire bucket over the edge of the weather-bridge railing and
set another there by the binnacle. The man at the wheel got me
started, sir. He asked me if I liked fat pork. Can't you see that if
I had made a quick run for the lee rail while the vessel was pitching
to leeward the chances are I'd continue right on overboard? As soon
as I get my bearings again I'll empty the bucket, sir."
"Der fire buckets ban't for dot purpose."
"All right, sir. I'll buy you a new fire bucket when we get to
Eureka," Matt answered contritely.
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