the bridge, and he suspected somethin' was wrong
and rang 'Slow down!' just in time to save us from
smashing bow on into that brigantine. Another time
he rose on his hind legs and 'let out' a yelp that
peeled everybody's eyes. Then the slippery, barnacle-
covered bottom of a water-logged derelict went
scootin' by a few yards off our starboard quarter.
After that the men got to dependin' on him--'Ought
to have a first mate's pay,' I used to tell the captain,
at which he would laugh and pat the dog on the
head.

"One morning about eight bells, some two hundred
miles off Rio--we were 'board the Zampa, one of our
South American line, with eighteen first-class passengers,
half of 'em women, and ten or twelve emigrants
--when word came to the bridge that a fire
had started in the cargo. We had a lot of light
freight on board and some explosives which were to
be used in the mines in the mountains off the coast,
so fire was the last thing we wanted. Bayard--did I
tell you the dog's name was Bayard?--that's what
the girl called him--was on the bridge with Captain
Bogart. I was asleep in my bunk. First thing I
knew I felt the dog's cold nose in my face, and the
next thing I was on the dead run for the after-hatch.
I've had it big and ugly a good many times in my
life; was washed upon a pile of rocks once stickin'
up about a cable's length off our coast, and hung to
the cracks until I dropped into a lifeboat; and