was.

"And a little more of this dancing," exclaimed Moran, "and we'll
have the planks springing off the stern-post."

Charlie nodded solemnly. He said nothing--his gravity had
returned. Now in the glare of the tropical day, with the "Bertha
Millner" sitting the sea as placidly as a brooding gull, he was
Talleyrand again.

"I tinkum yas," he said vaguely.

"Well, I think we had better try and fix the rudder and put back
to Frisco," said Moran. "You're making no money this way. There
are no shark to be caught. SOMETHING'S wrong. They're gone away
somewhere. The crew are eating their heads off and not earning
enough money to pay for their keep. What do you think?"

"I tinkum yas."

"Then we'll go home. Is that it?"

"I tinkum yas--to-molla."

"To-morrow?"

"Yas."

"That's settled then," persisted Moran, surprised at his ready
acquiescence; "we start home to-morrow?" Charlie nodded.