basket. Then they heard Harvey’s voice, clear and fresh, checking the weights.
The last of the fish had been whipped out, and Harvey leaped from the string-piece six feet to a ratline, as the shortest way to hand Disko the tally, shouting, “Two ninety-seven, and an empty hold!”
“What’s the total, Harve?” said Disko.
“Eight sixty-five. Three thousand six hundred and seventy-six dollars and a quarter. ’Wish I’d share as well as wage.”
“Well, I won’t go so far as to say you hevn’t deserved it, Harve. Don’t you want to slip up to Wouverman’s office and take him our tallies?”
“Who’s that boy?” said Cheyne to Dan, well used to all manner of questions from those idle imbeciles called summer boarders.
“Well, he’s kind o’ supercargo,” was the answer. “We picked him up