He thought Bob had given up all his tricks, but that same day showed how much mistaken he was.

The boy, seeing a chance to have some sport with one of the sailors--a German--sewed up the sleeves of the man's Jersey.

When the man tumbled out of his bunk, in a hurry to take his watch on deck, he could not understand the reason why he could not put on his garment.
"Vot's der madder ?" he exclaimed, struggling with the sleeves.
"Der vitches haf been at vork! I am bevitched!" "More like that onery critter of a boy done it," suggested his messmate, a practical Yankee.
"So?
I plays a joke on him, alretty yet.

Vatch." And the German was as good as his word.

The next afternoon Bob suddenly felt himself being pitched over the rail toward the sea.
He yelled and made a grab for the mizzen shroud near which he was standing, but he suddenly found himself brought up with a round turn, for the German had caught the boy's feet in a bight of cable, so that he would not go overboard.
"So!" he exclaimed.