being raised up and murmured to himself, “She’s a beauty, a real beauty.”
The fishermen watched him as they untangled the nets. “He’s nothing but a blasted robber! I’d like to see the chains snap and let it fall on the blighter’s head.”
He passed close by them as they worked, looking down at them. Then he shouted to the carpenter in an impatient, gruff voice.
The carpenter poked his head out of a hatchway.
“What is it?”
The boss answered angrily. “What is it? You fool. I want you to scrape off the number.”
The carpenter looked blank.
“Come on, you slacker!”
Behind the broad-shouldered boss the little carpenter, a saw in his belt and a chisel in his hand, trailed over the deck with cautious steps like a lame man. Boat No. 36 became boat No. 6.
“That’ll do fine. Ah, ha, we’ve got one on them!” Twisting his mouth up into a three-cornered shape, the boss laughed expansively.
Even had they sailed farther north they could not have found the missing boat. The ship, which had been standing still during all these proceedings, now began to describe a wide curve to get back again to her original position. The sky had cleared and was as fresh-looking as if it had just been washed. The Kamchatka ranges showed up distinctly like the Swiss mountains you see in picture post cards.
Still the lost boat did not return. The fishermen gathered together the belongings of the missing
