88 THE WORLD OF ICE.

On hearing his name mentioned, Poker gently
opened his right eye, but did not move. Dumps, on
the contrary, lay as if he heard not the base aspersion
on his character.

“What’ll ye bet it was Dumps as did it?” cried
Davie Summers, who passed at the moment with a
dish of some sort of edible towards the galley or
cooking-house on deck.

“Tl bet you over the ’ead, I will, if you don't
mind your business,” said Mivins.

“You'd better not,” retorted Davie with a grin.
“Tg as much as your situation’s worth to lay a
tinger on me.”

“That's it, youngster, give it “im,” cried several of
the men, while the boy confronted his superior, taking
good care, however, to keep the fore-mast between them.

“What do you mean, you young rascal?” eried
Mivins with a frown.

“Mean!” said Davie, “why, I mean that if you
touch me I'll resign office; and if I do that, you'll
have to go out, for every one knows you can't get on
without me.”

“JT say, Mivins,” cried Tom Green, the carpenter’s
mate, “if you were asked to say, ‘Hold on hard to
this handspike here, my hearties’ how would ye go
about it?”

“He'd ‘it you a pretty ’ard crack hover the ’ead
with it, ’e would,” remarked one of the men, throw-
ing a ball of yarn at Davie, who stood listening to
the conversation with a broad grin.