"We
can but thry, sorr! . . . Shure, she's a foine boat--that o'
yours. . . . An' likely-looking lads, too!" No one could but admire
the well-set figures of the German crew as they stroked easily beside
us.
"_Schweinehunden_," said Schenke brutally. We noticed more than one
stolid face darkling as they glanced aside. Schenke had the name of a
"hard case." "_Schweinehunden_," he said again. "Dey dond't like de
hard vork, Cabtin. . . . Dey dond't like it--but ve takes der Coop,
all de same! Dey pulls goot und strong, oder"--he rasped a short
sentence in rapid Low German--"Shermans dond't be beat by no durn
lime-juicer, _nein_!"
Old Burke grinned. "Cocky as ever, Captain Schenke! Bedad now, since
ye had the luck of ye're last passage there's no limit to ye!"
"Luck! Luck! Alvays de luck mit you, Cabtin!"
"An' whatt ilse? . . . Sure, if I hadn't struck a bilt of calms an'
had more than me share of head winds off the Horn, I'd have given ye a
day or two mesilf!"
"Ho! Ho! Ho! _Das ist gut_!" The green boat rocked with Schenke's
merriment. He laughed from his feet up--every inch of him shook with
emotion. "Ho! Ho! Hoo! _Das ist ganz gut_.
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