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 bend of the head in the direction of the schooner—"too often. Greeks! They would n't let you have the peelings from their finger nails if they could help it. Some of 'em seem to think they 're doing us an honor to tie up behind."

The tug's next engagement was to tow barges heavily laden with coal, from one wharf to another, many miles away, after which the captain proceeded to his favorite hunting ground, outside the entrance to the harbor.

The days passed pleasantly enough for Dave, and he found very little to do, as compared with life on tramps. Sometimes, after satisfying himself that the lookout was wide-awake, the skipper would join the rest of the crew in the cozy cabin, and join in telling yarns while smoking fearsome black cigars that seemed to Dave to have an odor of tarred rope. One evening, when the tug was rolling gently in