“Huh—understand flag signals, do ye?” grunted Malone, shifting his inflamed eyes to Madden's face.
“Learned it in my engineering course,” explained the lad.
The two passed on to the bow, when the sailor on the tug starting waving once more. Mate Malone watched the man until he had finished spelling out the message, then he turned to Leonard and asked:
“Know w'ot 'e said?”
“Parker's sick and they need you,” translated the American.
“Good,” grinned the mate with more fellowship than he had ever shown before. “Now, lookee here, young chap. They're going to send a cutter for me to come and take Parker's place. You strike me as a decent sort, so I'll leave you in my berth till I get back. You won't have nothin' to do hexcept tell off th' watches an' keep th' boys paintin'. Softer'n your fo'cs'l job, though you won't git no hextra pay—wot about it?”
“That goes with me,” agreed Madden readily.
“All right, you signal me about anything you
