"Why--why, Gib, we thought you was headed south by this time,"
Scraggs sputtered, for something told him great events portended.

"You dirty dawg! You little fice! You figgered on breakin' my
heart an' sendin' me off on a wild-goose chase, didn't you?" Mr.
Gibney leaped and his great hand closed over Captain Scraggs's
collar. "Own up," he bellowed. "Where'd you git this dope about
me an' Pinky? Lie to me agin an' I'll toss you overboard," and in
order to impress Captain Scraggs with the seriousness of his
intentions he cuffed the latter vigorously with his open left
palm.

"I was behind the potato crates this mornin' whilst you an' Mac
was yarnin'," Scraggs hastened to confess. "Ow! Wow! Leggo, Gib!
Can't you take a little joke?"

"Was Mac here in on the joke? Was you let in on it after I went?"
Mr. Gibney demanded of his Fidus Achates.

"I was not, Gib. I don't call it no joke to wring a feller's
heart like Scraggsy wrung yourn."

"In addition to makin' a three-ply jackass o' me!" Captain
Scraggs cowered under the rain of ferocious slaps and attempted
to fight back, but he was helpless in the huge Gibney's grasp and
was forced to submit to a boxing of the ears that would have
addled his brains, had he possessed any. "Now, then," Mr. Gibney
roared, as he cast the skipper loose, "let that be a lesson to
you to let the skeletons in my closet alone hereafter. Mac,