"The deck of the mail boat's about as near as I want to get to it," said the steward with a deprecatory shrug. "It's a land o' hard knocks and short grub. You'd better leave it to the livyeres and Indians, young man, and go back to God's country with the ship."
"No, thank you," said Shad. "I'm going to have a rattling good summer hunting and fishing here before I see the ship again."
"When we come on our next voyage, a fortnight from now, you'll be standing out there on the dock looking for us, and mighty glad to see us," laughed the steward. "You'll have all you want of The Labrador by then. Shall I put your things ashore?"
"Yes, if you please--all but the canoe. I'll paddle that over, if you'll send a man to help me launch it."
"Pooh!" thought Shad, as the steward left him. "'Hard kn
