"Dan Rudd," roared Captain Zachariah Bluntt, "if I has to tell you again to keep that mouth organ below decks, I'll wring your neck Yes, wring your neck By the imps of the sea, I will " "Aye, aye, sir," answered Dan Rudd, a robust, sunny-faced sailor lad of sixteen, quickly slipping the offending harmonica, upon which he had been playing a lively air, into his pocket. Captain Bluntt, impatiently pacing the deck, was plainly in ill humor. His great red beard, standing out like a lion's mane, bristled ominously, and his shaggy eyebrows were drawn down in an unpleasant scowl.