“Well,” went on Cap’n Amazon while Louise listened spellbound, “that dog Snowball was in a bad fix.  A dog’s a dog—­almost human as you might say.  But I wasn’t aimin’ puttin’ myself in a shark’s mouth for a whole kennel full o’ dogs.

“Mind you, not minutes but only seconds had passed since the dog shot outboard.  The ship was not movin’ fast.  She heeled over again’ and her spars and flappin’ canvas was almost over my head as I glanced up.

“And then I seen a sight—­I did, for a fact.  I cal’late you never give a thought to how high the teetering top of a mast on such a vessel as the Sally S. Stern is, from the ocean level.  Never did, eh?

“Well,” as the enthralled Louise shook her head, “they’re taller than a lot of these tall buildings you see in the city.  ‘Skyscrapers’ they call ’em.  That’s what the old Sally’s topmasts looked like gazin’ up at ’em out of the sea.  They looked like they brushed the wind-driven clouds chasin’ overhead.

“And out o’ that web of riggin’ and small spars, and slattin’ canvas, and other gear, I seen a man’s body hurled into the air.  It was Snowball, the man.  Bill his right name was.

“Flung himself, he did, clean out o’ the ship and as she heeled back to starboard he shot down, feet first, straight as a die, and made a hole in the sea not ha’f a cable’s length from me and nearer the dog than I was.  And as he came down I seen his open knife flashing in his hand.

“Yes, my dear, that was a mem’rable leap.  Talk about these fellers jumpin’ off that there Brooklyn Bridge!  ’Tain’t much higher.

“The mate brought the Sally S. Stern up into the wind, the second’s crew got the boat over, and they picked me up in a jiffy.  Then I stood up and yelled for ’em to pull on, for I could see the man, the dog, and the shark almost in a bunch together.

“But,” concluded Cap’n Amazon, “a nigger ain’t often much afraid of a shark.  When we got to ’em there was a patch of bloody water and foam; but it wasn’t the blood of neither of the Snowballs that was spilled.  They come out of it without a scratch.”

“Oh, Cap’n Amazon, what a really wonderful life you have led!” Louise said earnestly.

Cap’n Amazon’s eye brightened, and he looked vastly pleased.  Whenever he made a serious impression with one of his tales of personal achievement or peril, he was as frankly delighted as a child.

“Yes, ain’t I?” he observed.  “I don’t for the life of me see how Abe’s stood it ashore all these years.  An’ him keepin’ a shop!” and he sniffed scornfully.

Before Louise could make rejoinder, or bolster up the reputation of the absent Cap’n Abe in any way, the noise of an automobile stopping before the store was audible,

“Now, if that’s one o’ them summer fellers, for gas I shall raise the price of it—­I vow!” ejaculated Cap’n Amazon, but getting up briskly and laying aside his pipe and knitting.