 7 It was with no good feeling that I went below to get the old man a drink. The steward met me, and grinned as he brought forth the liquor. 8 Yes, sir, it's nine of them he takes her enduring to watch. Lord man, he's got something powerful on his mind. Did you ever feel the heft of his trunk he brought aboard, sir? No, sir, that you didn't. Well, it's powerful heavy for a man's baggage. 8 What's in it? I asked. 8 Did I don't know, man, just what is in it, but I reckon it's something what worries him. 8 Datten cap man drew his fords, worries him some. 9 Chips, he say as day goes aft and have matter straightened out a bit, 10 day is for either weld and irons on a cap and fords, or putting him on the beach. 10 Jim, hands bendin' in Frenchy, and a lot more are for doin' somethin' with him. 11 Yes, sir, day is dat. Have a little nip for ya goes. 11 I took one and went back to the quarter-deck. 12 The specta leeward showed a bit of storm canvas flying, and we soon could make out she was a large ship, hove, too, like ourselves, on the port-tac. 12 Her hull showed now and again on the seas, and after drifting down to order for about an hour, the light grew strong enough to make her out plainly. She was a large ship, English-built, with a turtle-back stern, painted white on the tumble-home of the quarter. 13 Her hull was black, and the foam showed in long white lines of streamers as it was blown across her topsides. She was makin' heavy weather of it, and every now and again she would ram her nose clear out of sight in the high-rollin' sea. Then she would rise heavily, with the white water pourin' from her drippin' forefoot, and wallow dismally until her weather-rail would appear to roll under. 14 The stump of a fore-mast showed forward, and a stout main topsoil strained away amid ships, while aft, where the mizzen should have been, there was nothing showin' above her deck. Her main top-gallant mast was also gone at the cross-trees, but the main topsoil held strongly. All together she was pretty well wrecked aloft. While we watched her, we drew nearer, and when she came within a couple of miles I could make out a flag, the English ensign, union down in the main rigging. This showed pretty plainly that she was doin' badly and wanted help, but it was absolutely useless to think of doing anything for her while the wind held in the sea showed no signs of going down. Being much lighter than she was, we drifted off more, and we came nearer and nearer as the morning brightened into a dirty day. In a short time we had her close under our lee, not a half a mile distant. Indeed it looked as though we might get closer than we wished to. The wind slacked gradually, however, and before long we managed to get out our main top-mast stay-sail. Then followed a close-reeft foresail balanced aft by the mizzen lower topsoil which we had saved. This, with the Spencer and Canvas already set, gave us a good hold of the ship in spite of the sea, and we were ready to wear if necessary. The pirate drifted much faster under the extra Canvas and went to Leeward so far that we saw that she should go clear of the stranger. As we drew nearer we now saw how deep she sat in the water, and the seas rolling over her amid ships with every plunge. Still she headed up well and was under control. While we gazed a string of flags fluttered from her yard arm. I dived below for the code and soon read the signal for help. They were sinking. Trunnel turned out on deck, and we waited to see if Captain Thompson would give the word to do anything. He stood near the rail and gazed through his glass without saying anything or exhibiting any concern whatever for the people we could now see upon the stranger's high poop. Then he turned to the mate and asked, What does he want, Trunnel? Once us to stand by him, I reckon. The mate replied, Can we do it without danger in this seaway, eh? demanded Thompson. Answer me that. How the devil can we do anything for a fellow in this seaway when we might be rammed by him and sink ourselves? We stand by that ship as long as she is above water, answered Trunnel quietly. Then came a sudden change upon the Captain. He turned upon the mate quickly, and his bright, glinting eyes seemed to grow to sharp points on either side of his hooked nose, which worked and twitched under the excitement. His hand went behind his back, and he jerked forth a long revolver. Who's Captain of this here boat, Mr. Trunnel? Me or you? said he in his drawing voice. You! answered Trunnel decisively. Do you presume to give any orders here what don't agree with mine? No, sir, said Trunnel. Well, just let me hint to you, you a bushy-headed little brute, that I don't want any suggestions from my mates, see? You little snipe you? What do you mean anyhow by saying what we'll do? Several men standing on the poop to keep clear of the seas and the waste, hitched their trousers a little, and felt for the sheath-knives and their belts. I noticed Jim, the young landsman, pass his hand behind him and stand waiting. There was an ominous silence and watchfulness among the crew which was not lost on the Captain. He'd inspired no respect in their minds as a sailor, even though he had shown himself fearless. It was evident that they were with Trunnel. I meant that we would stand by that ship as long as she floated, said the little mate, looking straight into the pistol-barrel, and I expected that it would be by your orders, sir. Thompson was not a fool. He saw in an instant how the case was, and his glinting eyes took in the whole outfit of men and mates at one glance. He may not have wished to help the strangers, but he saw that not to do so meant more trouble to himself than if he did. This time you expected just right, Trunnel. I mean to stand by those people, and I order you to get ropes ready to hoist out the boat we have on the house there. What I don't want and won't have is orders suggested by any one aboard here but me. I'm glad you didn't mean to do that, for I'd hate to kill you. You can get the boat ready. Then he put the revolver back into his pocket, and Trunnel went forward along the shelter of the weather bulwarks and made ready the tackles for hoisting the boat out. By the aid of the powerful glass I made out a figure of a woman standing upon the ship's poop. She appeared to be watching us intently. Soon a little sailorly and seamen-like fellow named Ford, whose interest in the strange ship was marked, came from the group near the mizzen and asked if he should get the signal how you're ready. Thompson made no objection, and we bent on the flags which told by the code that we would stand by them until the sea went down enough to get out a small boat. At seven bells the doctor managed to get some fire started in the galley, and all hands had a drink of hot coffee. This was cheering, and Trunnel soon had the watch hard at work getting out new canvas from the Lazaretto aft. The main deck was getting safer, and although she took the sea heavily now and then, she was no longer like a half-tied rock in a strong current. Topsils were hoisted out from below, and gant lines bent. By the time all hands had eaten something and eight bells had struck, we were ready to get up new topsils and start the pumps. Luckily there was little water below. In spite of the tremendous straining the ship had made no more than could be expected, and in a little over an hour at the breaks we had the satisfaction of having the pumps suck. All that morning we worked aloft getting new gear up. The British ship drew away on our weather-beam, wallowing horribly in the sea-way. The wind died away gradually into a good stiff gale, and by noon we had a break or two above us that let down the sunlight. This cheered all hands. A good meal with extra coffee was served forward, and I sat down to the cabin table with chips and the steward to eat ravenously of prime junk and preserved potatoes. "'Tis a queer time you had again last night for it, hey,' said chips. "'It was interesting for a few minutes,' I answered. "'I hope you fixed the fellow's irons all right. Keys seem to have strange ways aboard this vessel.' "'Well, you needn't be a feared of their askel taken leave again. Sure, and I riveted his irons this time, as will take a file and no less to cut through. I votes we get the old man to put him aboard the first ship when it comes a-heave and down nigh enough, eh?' "'It would suit me all right,' I answered. "'Jim and Long Tom and Hans and a whole lot of us have the matter in mind, and we'll speak with the skipper before long. There's a devil's miss below in the forepeak, where a barrel has brook loose that I'll have to mix with first. Be a-going in the boat aboard the stranger when the sea goes down?' "'I suppose so,' I said. That lot generally falls to a second mate. "'Be sure, then, you have the plug in all right and the oars sound, for the sea will be heavy for a bad craft, and you mined the irons last night. I'll just take a look at them before I start.' "'Chips,' I said. "'Thank you for keeping tabs on the skipper.' "'It's no great matter,' he answered, and then we fell to with a will until the meal was finished.' End of chapter. At three bells in the afternoon the sea had begun to go down enough to allow us to get our new topsills on her and a main top gallant-sill. The pirate went smoking through it under the pressure, trembling with each surge, and throwing a perfect storm of water over her cat-heads. The English ship was now a mere speck to windward, almost hulled down, and we would have to beat up to her if we could. Just how badly she needed help we, of course, could not tell. If she were sinking fast, then she would have to depend upon her own boats, for the sea was too heavy until late in the afternoon to venture out in our only one left. We could no longer see her signals, but carried all the sail possible, without danger of carrying away our spars, in the effort to get close to her again. After standing along for an hour or more we warship, and found that we could just about get within hailing distance to leeward. Trunnel had the reef tackles rigged from the main yard, and the lifeboat was slung clear of the lee rail. Then, watching a chance, she was let go with Hans and Johnson in her to keep her clear, and dropped back to the mizzen channels, where the volunteers were ready to get aboard her. Four men besides myself manned her, and she was instantly let go to keep her clear of the sea, which hover first high on the pirate's quarter, and then down until our faces were below the copper on her bends. By dent of quick work we shoved her clear, and started on the pool, dead to windward. How small the pirate looked when we were but a few fathoms distant in that sea! Our boat rode the waves nicely, without shipping much water, and several times I turned to look back at the ship, where Trunnel stood beside the skipper, watching us through the glasses, and waiting to pick us up on our return. I could see the doctor's face above the top gallant rail forward, and that of chips in the waist. It was a long pool. The sea was running high, and the wind was still blowing a half-gale, breaking up the heavy oily clouds into long banks between which the sun shone at intervals. It was a good half-hour's work before we could cover the short distance between the ships. We came slowly up under her lee-quarter, and when we were quite close, I could see that she was indeed very deep, if not actually sinking. The words Royal Sovereign, Libra Pool, were painted in gold letters on her stern, and on the circular buoys, hanging upon her quarter rail, was the same name in black. A group of men stood near the mizzen rigging, and one short man with a black sour-wester and blue pilot coat hailed us through a large-mouth trumpet, which almost hid his bearded face. Boat ahoy! Can you come aboard? he roared. We'll try to come alongside. I bawled. Stand by to heave a line. A man had one ready, and hove it well out with a yell to catch. Long Tom, our lean Yankee sailor, who was pulling Bauer, seized it as it fell across, and took a turn around a thwart. The oars were shipped, and we fell under the vessel's stern, riding the seas without mishap. Where's sinking? cried the short man, who was the captain. Can you take some of us with you? Hi, hi! Get them aboard here as quick as you can! came the answer. There was no time lost now. Men swarmed toward the taff rail, and for an instant it looked as if there would be something of a panic. The short skipper, however, flung them aside without ceremony, and the next instant a female figure appeared at the rail. All easy came the order. Hands and Tom pulled in the line slowly until the boat's bow was leading almost directly beneath the ship's stern. A bridle was rigged from the spanker-boom, and made fast to a life-boy. Then the lady who had appeared at the taff rail was slung in it, rather uncomfortably, and carefully lowered away. She was seized by one of the men forward and handed aft to me. The woman was quite young. She was slightly built, and I supported her easily until she was safely in the stern sheets. A few strands of curly blonde hair blew across my face, and gave me a most peculiar feeling as I brushed them aside. Then she turned up her face, and I saw that she had most beautiful eyes, soft and gentle, with a trusting look, such as one sees in children. Thank you, Mr. Sailorman, she said with a smile. I am all right now. Except perhaps for a little wedding you will stay so, I hope, I answered. A heavy woman was being lowered away, and Hans caught her boldly about the body, trying to keep her from being thrown out of the tossing small boat. She shrieked dismally. Don't be silly, Mama, cried the young lady aft. You've been squeezed tighter than that before, I'm sure. She was passed aft and took her place beside her daughter in the stern, expostulating incoherently at the younger one's insinuations. There followed a little man, short in stout, who was evidently the ship's carpenter, and he was followed by a dozen sailors. Haven't you any boats that will swim? I asked of the mate who hung over the rail above me. We're getting them out now, he answered. Then let us go. We've got a big enough load already. In a few moments we were on our way back to the pirate, making good headway before the wind and sea, and shipping little water. The men explained as we went along that the sovereign had started a butt during the gale, and she was full of water by this time. They had kept at the pumps all day, but had given it up when they saw we were coming for them. The ship's cargo of oil and light woods from the peninsula had kept her from going to the bottom. She was homeward bound to Liverpool, and it was the captain's wife and daughter we were bringing aboard. The hurricane had caught them aback and dismasted them during the night, and after six hours of plunging helplessly into the sea without anything but the main mass and stump of the formast above the deck, she had sprung a leak and filled rapidly. The main topsoil they had bent in the morning after extraordinary exertion, and with this they had managed to keep her partly under control. She will never go to the bottom with all the soft wood she has in her, said a sailor who was old and grizzled and had the bearing of a man of war's man. She can't sink for months. The water is up to her lower deck already. So that's the reason you were not getting your boats out in a hurry, I asked. Sure, said he, I'd as soon stay in her a bit longer as in many a bleeding craft that you seize a going in this trade. I noticed you were one of the first to leave her, said the young girl, with some spirit. Ah, Mom, when you get along in life like me, hardships is not good for the Constitution. A sailorman, he gets enough of them without hunting any more? How's some ever, if I see any chance of getting the bleeding craft import way out here in this Indian Ocean, I'd be the last to leave. Bust me, Mom, if that ain't the whole truth, and a little more besides. You ask your Pa. Here he gave a sigh, and drew his hand across his forehead, as if in pain. His large pop eyes blinked sadly for a few moments, and his mouth dropped down at the corners. Then his mahogany-colored face became fixed, and his gaze was upon the craft he had just deserted. What was in the old fellow's mind? I really felt sorry for him, as he sat there gazing sadly after his deserted home. Captain Sackett would stay aboard until the last, his wife informed us. But as there was no necessity of anyone staying now, if their boats could live in the sea that was still running, it was probable that they would all be aboard us before night. Janks, the old sailor, gave it as his opinion that they would have the boats out in half an hour. We came up under the lee of the pirate, and then began the job of getting our passengers aboard her. Trunnel passed a line over the main-brace bumpkin, and held the tossing craft away from the ship's side until a bridle could be bent and the ladies hoisted aboard. Mrs. Sackett trembled violently and begged that she would not be killed, much to her daughter's amusement. Finally she was landed on deck, where she was greeted by the third mate and escorted aft. Miss Sackett was of different stuff. She insisted that she could grab the mizzen channel-plates and climb aboard. I begged her to desist and be hoisted on deck properly, but she gave me such a look that I held back and refrained from passing the line about her. As the boat lifted on a sea she made a spring for the channel. Her hand caught it all right, but her foot slipped, and as the boat sank into the hollow trough she was left hanging. Trunnel instantly sprang over the side, and letting himself down upon the channel seized her hand and lifted her easily to a footing. The ship rolled down until they were knee-deep in the sea, but the little mate held tight, and then, with one hand above his head, as she rose again, he lifted his burden easily to the grasp of Jim, who reached over the side for her. After she was landed safely, the men crowded up the best way they could, and the boat was dropped astern with a long painter to keep her clear of the ship's side. Captain Thompson greeted his female passengers awkwardly. He declared in a drawing tone that he was most glad that their boat was wrecked in as much as it had given him the opportunity to meet the finest ladies he had ever set eyes on. May the devil grasp me in his holy embrace, madam, said he. If I am lying when I says that word, it is my most pious thoughts, says I. Mrs. Sackett was somewhat taken aback at this candor, but managed to keep her feelings well hidden. Her daughter came to the rescue. We appreciate your noble efforts, Captain Thompson. The fact is, we have heard so much about your gallantry in saving life at sea, that we are sure anything we could say would sound weak in comparison to what you must already have heard. If you have a spare stateroom, we would be very thankful if we might have it for a time, as our clothes are quite wet from the sea. The skipper was somewhat surprised at the young girl's answer, but he hid his confusion by bawling for the steward. When the mulatto came, he gave numerous orders in regards to bunks, linen, drying of clothes, etc., regretting over and over again that he was a single man, and consequently had no wife from whom he could borrow wearing apparel while that of his guests was drying. The third mate also took pains to be very civil to them, and his soft voice could be heard in conversation with Mrs. Sackett long after they had gone below. I went forward and interviewed the men we had rescued, afterward getting the doctor to serve them something hot, as their galley-fire had been out many hours, and they had been eating nothing but ship spread. The pirate waited all the afternoon with her canvas shortened down to her lower topsoils to keep her from forging ahead too fast. But even when it grew dark and the British ship could no longer be clearly made out, her skipper had not gotten out his boats. It was evident that he would try to save her, if possible, and now that his family were safe he cared little for the risk. Captain Thompson still held the pirate hove too under easy canvas, drifting slowly with the wind, which was now no more than a moderate breeze. The sea, also, was going down fast, and the sky was showing well between the long lines of greasy-looking clouds which appeared to sail slowly away to the northeast. The night fell with every prospect of good weather coming on the following day. I went on deck in the dog-watch, and took a look around. The sovereign was a mere blur on the horizon, but her lights shone clearly. We'll stand by her all night, said Trunnel, and then if the skipper doesn't care to leave her, which he will, however, we'll stand away again. There was little to do, so the watch lounged around the deck and rested from the exertion of the past twenty-four hours. Chips told me I had better come forward after supper and take a smoke in his room, for they were going to come to some conclusion about the fellow Andrews. There had been some talk of putting him aboard the English ship, and if we could get the captain to agree to it, it would be done. I loafed around until I saw a light between the crack of his door and the bulkhead. Then I slid it back and entered. The stuffy little box was full of men. The boson, a large man named Spurgeon, who had quite a swagger for a merchant sailor, was holding forth to the quartermaster Hans on nautical operations. And how'd you do if you had an anchor between? Decks without nothing to hoist it out with, he was saying as I came in. Hans affirmed with many oaths that he'd let the bloody anchor go blooming well to the bottom before he'd fool with it. This made the boson angry, and he opened with a fierce harangue, accompanied by a description of the necessary maneuvers. He also made some remarks relating to the quartermaster's knowledge of things nautical. I took occasion to look about the little room while this was going on, and my fingers warmed up some. I then seated myself on a corner of the chest near chips to make myself easy, during which time the boson had gained sufficient ground to enforce silence upon his adversary, and relinquish the subject of anchors. Then came a pause during which I could distinguish the doctor's voice above the mutterings, and get a whiff of my own tobacco out of the haze. Five fat roaches they'll cure you every time, he was saying to chips. It's old man green shore remedy, sir. Yes, sir. I heard him told his old mate, Mr. Gantlain, when he sailed in the west coast trade. Faith, you must stave me, shipmate, but that would be an all-fired tough dish to swallow. The carpenter declared with a rye face. Supposing they didn't die, they would make a most eternal disagreeable cargo shifting about amongst your ribs. May the devil grab me, you moak, if I wouldn't rather swell up in bust with the scurvy than swallow them fellas kicking. Bile them, white man, said the cook. Bile them in a pint of water, and then fling them overboard. Who'd a devil would eat a roach? Right you are, shipmate, ascended chips. Tis an easy enough dose to take if all you do is to throw the critters to lord. Sink me, though, if I seize the benefit of a medicine you fling to David Jones instead of placing it to the credit of your own innards. Yeah, yeah, Mr. Chips, but you beats me. Yes, sir, you beats me, but your head is thick. Yes, sir, your head is thick enough. Yeah, yeah, laughed the doctor. What would you do but drink the water, white man? Yes, sir, drink the water for the acid in the critter. It's salt in your blood, makes scurvy, from livin' so long a eatin' nothing but salt junk. Lime juice is good, if the old man gives it to your straight. But he never does. No, sir, daddy never do. It's too expensive. Anyways, he don't have no strength like a roach, nor no such freshness, which am to mainpite after all. Seeing himself out of the talk, and having completely growled down the quartermaster, the bosons started another subject. This was a tirade against bad skippers and crimps who stood in too thick with the shipping commissioners, and whom he swore were in league with each other and the devil. He was an old sailor, and his seemed face was expressive when launching into a favorite subject. Here was Jim's chance, and he spoke out. Whatever became of Jameson, which was took off by Andrews, he asked chips. Was he doped, I asked. Didn't you never hear tell from O'Toole and Garnet? They was Andrews' mate's force spell, until the Irishman God bless him knocked him overboard and nearly killed him in a scuffle on to India docks. Cast loose, I want to hear, said the boson. There was a moment's silence, and chips looked at me as though questioning the senior officer of his watch. Then he fixed himself comfortably on the chest by jamming himself against the bulkhead, locking his hands about his knees, blowing smoke in a thick cloud. I heard the hail of trunel from the bridge during this pause, asking about a top-gallot leech-line. Thinking it well to take a look out, I did so to see if the men obeyed his orders, and found them rather slow slacking the line. This made it necessary for me to take a hand in matters and instill a little discipline among them, which kept me on deck for some minutes. End of chapter. Chapter 9 of Mr. Trunnel, Mate of the Ship Pirate This Lieberbach's recording is in the public domain, and is read by Mark Smith of Simpsonville, South Carolina. Mr. Trunnel, Mate of the Ship Pirate by T. Jenkins Haynes. Chapter 9 What a had a chance to slip back into the forward house. Chips had already cast loose and was in full swing. There ain't no use of tellin' everything one sees aboard ship, he was sayin', for you know when things happen on deep water the world ain't much the wiser for hearin' about them. There ain't no telegraphs, and the only witnesses is the men concerned, or the women. The men may or may it say a thing or two after getting the run of the beach, but as the critters have to wait half a year before gettin' there, the news of the occurrence wears off and regard for the effects on the teller takes place. It's just as often as not, the men keep mum, you know that as well as I do. This same Andrews as his Fords and Irons was runnin' the starbuck with Jameson as mate. An old garnet as second under him. You all know that old pirate. But this time he didn't have any hand in Andrews's game. Andrews wanted to marry the girl Jameson had, and when he found he had lost her he played his devil's trick. Jameson hadn't been married a week, for Andrews took him around by the foot of Powell Street in Frisco and set up some drinks. That's the last anyone sees of Jameson for a year or more on the West Coast, for when he comes to, he was at sea on that old tank, the Baldwin, and old man Jacobs would as soon have landed him on the moon, as put him ashore. A pretty bloomin' mean trick interrupted the boson. The poor devil did have a hard time of it, for he wasn't a very fierce sort of chap. He were a gentle-spoken, kind-hearted fellow, and you know well enough how a man what isn't made of iron would get along with Jacobs or his mates. They hazed him terrible, and as they were one hundred and seventy days and nights to Liverpool he took to Scurvy. You can reckon what was left of him afterwards. When he left the hospital he was glad enough to ship on a Chilean liner to get even as far to the West Coast as Valparaiso. He were aboard this Dago, putting in, when he saw the Starbucks standing out of the harbor. His wife were on the quarter-deck. That's the way with most women, snarled the boson, interrupting. I don't know about that, continued Chips. You see, after he had been gone a few months, and Andrews had been hanging around all the time, getting in his pisonous work, she began to have a little faith in the villain. It wasn't long before he convinced her Jameson had deserted, for he proved fair enough he had shipped aboard the Baldwin without so much as saying good-bye. There were plenty of men to back him on that, including the boat and what rode them aboard. Finally, partly by blandandering and feeling around, for the poor gal were now alone in the world, he got her to step aboard the bleeding-hookered Starbucks the day she were ready for sea. Then he just stood out and, well, after they'd been out six months, the matter ended as far as Jameson were concerned. Jameson took the news hard when he got the run of the beach, but he was that kindly disposed chap and went along the best he could until the war broke out. He was still waiting at Valparaiso when they drafted him into the Dago Army, and he was lucky enough to be on the side what got licked. Then there was no use waiting there for the Starbucks to come in again, so he made a slant for Peru as they never took no prisoners. Two weeks afterwards Andrews came in again for nitrates with garden and old tool for mates. Lucky for Andrews he wasn't there, said the bosson. He'd have had his ornery hide shut full of holes. What's the use of talking like a fool? said Chips. Is shooting up a fella going to undo a wrong like that? The shooting was all done on the other side, and Andrews's sound yet and aboard this here ship. Some men think of other things besides revenge, especially kind-hearted fellas like Jameson would never could hurt no one. As soon as some of Jameson's friends who knew of the affair told his wife, she went right into the cabin where Andrews was, and before he knew what she were up to, she had shot herself. Andrews paid her funeral expenses, and buried her in the little dago cemetery out for instance the city gate. And thin garnet, who didn't know of his skipper's devil-tree, swear vengeance on the husband who deserted her, for she were gentle and kind with the men forwards. Here Chips paused and gave me a side-long look as he refilled his pipe. Then he litted and smiled hopefully. They were a queer pair, them mates, garnet and otul, he said. What one wasn't the other was, and vice versa. They lay there two months loading on account of the war having blocked the nitrate beds. One day, otul saw an old woman come limping along the dock where the starbuck lay. She hopped along to the gang-plank and started aboard, and otul began to chaff garnet. He weren't half-bad as a joker. Pom me word, garnet, says he. I do believe your own mother is coming aboard to visit you. But no, maybe it's your sweetheart, for you have an uncommon queer taste, you know. By the saints, you were always a bold one for the ladies. We were lying in the next berth, not twenty feet away, and from where I sat on the rail I could hear them talk and see what was going on. Stave me, said old garnet, solemn like. That's true enough. Sink her for a fool, though, to be a coming down here to win back an old windjammer like me. What? You mean that old hag drifting along the deck? Blast you for a red-headed shell-back! And do you suppose I'd take up with women of your choice? No, I never make a superior officer jealous. And with that he takes out his rag and mops the dent in the top of his head, where there's no hair nor nothing but grease, and he draws out his little pestivorous vial of peppermint salts and sniffs. Faith, and you'll need to clear your old head, you old rascal, you've been too gay for once, said O'Toole. She wear a tough-looking old gal, and her hat-brim flopped over her face. O'Toole met her and pointed to garnet. If it's the lady-killer of the fleet you're after, there he stands. The old woman looked and stopped. No, say she, in a sort of jangled tone. It's my little gal, I looks for. She's aboard here with the captain. You can't see her, says garnet, and you better get ashore, or for I calls one of them dego soldiers to carry you off a maria. I could just get the glint of the old woman's eyes and then she bent her head lower. It's, it's my little gal, I must see. And there was something in her voice that made one pay attention to a so deep and solemn like. I were listening, and a few soldiers of the army, what was camped in the town, came up and stopped and looked on. She were a good little gal, and I cared for her. Yes, by God, she were a good gal, said the old one, hoarsely. I could see Old Tool turn away his head and garnet sniff hard at his vial. It was good, he used to say, for things in the head. Then he turned to the old woman. You better get ashore, old gal, she ain't aboard here. We don't take them kind on deep water. I must see her before I goes, said the old woman, and her voice were a whisper that died away. But we're so full of force, Old Tool turned to her. Was it Mrs. Jameson you wished to see? He asked. The old woman nodded. Well, Faith, and she, and then he stopped to look at garnet. She had an accident by your leave about a month ago. How was it you never heard tell? Weren't you here when the old man brought her ashore? I come from Frisco, said she. Well, I suppose you might as well now as never. Old Tool blurted out. She's dead, old woman, been dead a month gone. The old man buried her decent like, for, as you say, she were a real good gal. Pom-my-word, for a fact she were that. It is hard to tell you, but it's the truth, the whole truth, and diva'l a bit besides. While he talked, the old woman's head went lower, and when he finished, she gave a hard gasp. Then she stood huddled, afferenced the deck-house, and garnet started forward to the men at work, steven the last of the cargo. All of a sudden, like, I saw her raise her face, and spit a button from her mouth. Her eyes were staring and looking at the hill away off to the eastward of the town, and beyond to the great southern mountains of the Andes Range. Then she slowly straightened up, and walked with a firm step along the deck in the gang-plank. The soldier men made way for her on the dock, but she looked straight beyond her nose, and held away firm and strong until she went out of sight, leaving old tools staring after her. Pom-my-word, garnet, he called. It is a most wonderful thing, look. Tis a mother's love, ya hay-than, pom-my-word. There's nothing else like it. See how the news affected the poor old creature. It puts me in mind of the time when her head all led it to look after me. Tis a rail-jewel of a thing, and a man only has it to wants. Mors the pity, said garnet. Sink ye, but ye sure are a tough one to tell the old gal on so short notice. But ye never did have no feelings, ya blue-man heathen. Pom-my-so, what could I do else? Of course, taint likely a rough feller like you could do any better. But when any women folks come aboard again, come to a man as is used to them. A man as can talk and act in a way they likes. A man with some ways to him. A man—here he is stooped and picked up the butt and the old gal had dropped. Where did this come from? he asked. She had it in her mouth, says O'Toole. Well, it's one of the buttons off a uniform that ain't healthy to be wearing around these parts just now. And then they both looked hard at the little thing. Tis suppose it could it been? asked O'Toole. Been what? says garnet. Jameson, ye blithering idiot! Jameson, the same as left his wife, a come in here hunting for her. Twas so for a fact, he had it in his mouth that capeth from knowing his voice. And by the same token, I calls to mind the choking in his throat, the scandalous old woman he was. Stave me, but ye might have been right for once in your life. So bear a hand, and let's stand away after him and catch the old lady and see, says garnet. They started off without listening to my hail, so I climbed down to the dock and follows. It was evening now, and the street was crowded, but they pushed along ahead of me. Ye see it were Jameson sure enough, and when he heard his wife were dead, he went up that street like a man in a dream. He forgot all about his dress, and his face were hard set like a man thinking over the past. He had some five-minute start of the mates, and when a poor beggar woman spoke to him, he scared her half to death with his voice when he asked her the way to the cemetery. Then he remembered his disguise, stepped into a doorway, pulled off the dress and hat, and flung them to the old beggar woman and went his way. Garnet and O'Toole came along a few minutes later and saw the beggar. There he is, that's him! Sung out the old sailor, piting to the old gal walking along with her rags tied in a bundle tucked under her arm, for she had made shift to change them for Jameson's slups. "'Pom me word, you're right for once again,' says O'Toole. "'Well, don't you go a-spoiling the thing this time. Let me sail into him, and if I want sure I'll sing out, and you can bear a hand and help.' Garnet swung across the street to overhaul the old woman and came up behind her. "'Even an old lady, I want to have a talk with you,' and he lays his hand on her shoulder with a grip to take a piece of flesh out. She stopped and turned quick. "'Curumba!' she yells. "'I teach you to insult a decent old lady, ya Yankee dog. Help! Murder! Ya bloody rascal! Help! Help!' Thin she wore upon him like a wildcat, a clawing and biting, screeching and yelling. "'Sink ya for a bloody scoundrel, Jamison! I know's ya,' roared Garnet. "'Larry there, bear a hand. I have him.' Hold him, then, ya brave man,' sings out O'Toole, coming up. "'Go it, old girl. Give it to him.' "'Tis a letty killer he is for sure. Pom me word for a fact. Claw him, bite him, even though he's as tough as nails. Yell him, deaf old lady. Do it for his mother's sake, for the scandalous old rake he is. Get his ear in your teeth and hold on, for tis a letty killer you have in your hands at last. Wang his hide-off. Wang him! Wang him!' And I thought the old rascal would die of laughing. We were crowd and rowdy him to see the fun, and then the way that old gal wanged and lambed, and lambed and wanged, would have brought tears to your eyes. It was too much for human nature to stand, and so away goes Garnet down the street as fast as his bow-legs can get him over the beach, where his sheets slacked off are running free, and likewise, by the same token, away squares the old letty with her sky-sill set, and everything drawn sceptre skirts, which he holds by the clues and bunts. After him catch the blaggard. Balls, oh tool, rolling on the pavement, laughing and balling. That old beggar was clipper-built for sure, for when her skirts clued up, she were bearing down fast on the old mate, and kept his bow-legs a-lurchin' before the crowd had comin' along in the wake, a yellin' and hootin' like mad. A man jumped out to stop him, but I knowed Garnet would never stop this side of the gangway of his ship, and sure enough outflashes his hand, and the dago rolls over and over. They yelled harder than ever, and Garnet had to shake out another reef before he could make the gang-plank and get aboard. He managed to get below, just as some soldiers rushed up. The noise brought Andrews on deck in time to get men to keep the crowd off his ship, as then oh tool comes up. What's the row, he balls to the mate, but oh tool was laughin' so he couldn't spake a word. Finally got it out. Faith, tis the lady-killer of the fleet, Garnet at his old game, says he. Pond me word, tis a hangin' matter this time, for the damage he's done the sex. He were, but he broke down before he could finish. It was five minutes before he could tell what had happened, the old gal cussin' and swearin' and the crowd hootin' and agirin', but finally the skipper got some soldiers to carry the old gal away. Then out comes Garnet on the main deck, a smellin' of his little vile, but a voidin' of the skipper's eye. What the devil did you mean, asked Andrews. Did you take her to be Jameson in disguise? Pond me word, says oh tool, the first one that comes aboard was no other, and this one looked enough like him from a stern view. Tis a bad trade, though, this killin' of ladies, and he leered so at Garnet he swore horrible and went forwards. I were standing close enough to catch the glint in Andrew's eye when this were said, but he took no notice and went ashore, and as I followed after him he was thinkin' hard. Here Chip spat quietly into the corner, fingered his pipe, and rammed ash down. Then he looked up at the light, and a different expression came upon him. The bosons smiled died away, and all sat listenin' for the finish. Far forward sounded the cries of men dressin' down the headsheets. I hadn't much to do, continued Chip softly, so I walked on and saw him stop at a flower stand and buy a bunch of roses. I went across to the cemetery where the trees are good to look at, and the grasses green as the sea nigh the states. I hadn't gone far when I seized a man standin' nigh a grave with another man lyin' on it. I couldn't tell who the men were till I came close, for it was now gettin' dark. Then when Andrews stooped and lifted the head of the one lyin' down, I saw them both plain enough. Jameson's head made me feel sick with the horror of it. When I spoke, Andrews let the poor fellows sink back again, and as I stood alongside I saw the flowers the skipper had bought, lyin' on the grave nigh the hand of poor Jameson, which still held his pistol. The old man said nothing, but there was a hard look in his eyes as I saw him lookin' at the tops of the big Chilean mountains, where the sunken sun made them a bloody red. He were thinkin' hard, and seemed to be watchin' a flock of vultures that comin' over the range, stringin' out in a long line of black specks. Then all of a sudden he stooped and picked up the flowers and placed them gentle-like on the head of the grave. It was the only gentle thing I ever knew him to do, and then walked away without a word. That's the last I saw of him till I shipped aboard here, for he cleared from Valparaiso the next day. And this is the beggar we're takin' back to the States to be skipper of some American ship, maybe the same one, if he gets clear of the killin' of his quartermaster off Melbourne, said the boson. And that's the reason by your leave, Mr. Rowling, said Jim. I say it's best to go back again and deliver this man up to the proper authorities. As far as I'm concerned, I answered, I would just as soon see him safe where the wind won't annoy him. But I'm not the skipper, and if you want to get any satisfaction you'll have to go aft. We did, said the boson. We asked the old man, but he wouldn't hear of it, and Trunnel is with him. Trunnel is with him because he thinks it right, said Jim, with a shrewd look at me. But if you were to try to persuade him, I believe it would come around all right. Why a foal not put him aboard the English ship, sa, put in the doctor. Our votes we asked the old man to put him aboard her. All were agreeable to this proposition, and decided to go aft the first thing in the morning watch. Jim stuck out for going back. If you were to go with us, Mr. Rowling, we might persuade Trunnel, said he. It's no use, he never would. Before we could continue the discussion further, the bells struck out loudly, and the boson and I went on deck for our watch. It was a fine, clear night, and I was glad to get the course from the mate, and walk fore and aft on the weatherside of the poop to enjoy it. The morning dawn calm and beautiful, the heavy oily swell which still ran from the effects of the blow, moved in long smooth humps upon the sea. Far to the eastward the light of the rising sun tinted the cirrus clouds above with a rosy hue. I was quite tired from the effects of the gale, and the morning watch is always a cheerless one. The steward had coffee ready, however, and after a good drink I felt better, and got out the glass to see if I could make out the sovereign. We had been drifting all night, so that in the mid-watch Trunnel warship and stood up for her to keep in sight. There she lay, about three miles away off our port beam. Her topso was the only canvas she had set, and she was so low in the water that I could not see her deck of midships at that distance. All except a little of her high poop appeared to be under, or so low that it was invisible. I wondered why her captain had not put off sooner, and I knew that as soon as Thompson came on deck he would be in a fury at his having waited so long. There was not a breath of air now, so we were certain to be in company for several hours, at least. While I looked over the expanse of heaving ocean I saw a black spot between the ships. In a moment I made out a boat rising and falling, propelled by four oars, and headed for us. Sometimes she would disappear behind a high lump of sea, and then she would be on top, and I made out she was coming along right handily. As she drew nearer I made her out to be full of men. She came up under our mizzen channels and hailed. Half the watch was bending over the side looking at her, and one man through a line. This was seized, and the next moment her crew came clambering over the rail. Janks, the old sailor who had come over in the boat with me the day before, was on deck to receive his shipmates. The old fellow's face wrinkled with amusement at the sight of his worn-out countryman, until it looked like the slack of a bellows. There was an unholy twinkle in his eye as he greeted them. On the boarding of the officer of the boat, a tall Englishman who was the ship's mate, the man Janks stopped his pleasantry at the tired crew's expense, but it was too late. He was ordered into the boat, with three other men who were fresh, to be sent away for the remaining men on the ship. Then the officer mounted the poop just as Captain Thompson emerged from below. The officer bowed and touched his hat deferentially, but the skipper stood looking at him out of his glinting eyes while his nose worked and twitched. Don't seem to be in much of a hurry, hey! said our Captain with his drawl. We've been working steadily all night at the pumps, sir, hoping to keep her afloat, sir. The old man, I beg pardon, Captain Sackett, says as he'll not abandon her while she swims. The rest of us have permission to go, sir. Is her cargo of any particular value, then? Yes, sir, it's palm oil in valuable woods. There's eight hundred barrels of palm oil in her, and the Captain's got his all, every cent he has in the world. He won't leave her. Do you know what you resemble, hey! said our skipper, dryly. I do not, sir. Well, I wouldn't want to hurt the feelings of a poor shipwrecked sailor, nor insinuate nothing such as no gentleman ought, no sirree. No sirree. You are my guest aboard here, and damned welcome to you. At the same time, if I were telling anybody as to what kind of a fellow you was, I should say, yes, sir, after thinking the matter over carefully, and taking all points into consideration, I might say that I thought she an all-around white-livered cowardly cuss, and that's a fact. The English mate turned red. He started to say something, and then checked himself. Finally he blurted out, I've heard tell of some Yankee skippers who've given a bad name to your infernal shipping, and I reckon I've run up against one. But no fear, I recognize you as our saviour, and won't say a word, sir. The retort courteous, as the saying is, would be a crack on the jaw of such a fellow, but I don't say as I'll do it, sir. There's some fellows' knees ripping up the back, but you being captain of this here ship, I won't say who they is, sir. No sir, I won't say who they is, or nothing. I just ask that I be sent back aboard the sovereign. The boat ain't gone yet, and by the Lord I'll drown before I get into a ship like this. Well, by hooky you won't, then. Snarled the captain. You'll stay aboard this boat. A man that's born to be hung mustn't be drowned. Hey there, rolling! He bawled, looking forward to where I stood. Get out the boat and go with those fellows. Get all the rest of fear to stay aboard and come back. We won't stay here all day waiting for a lot of fellows too afraid to know what they want. The noise of the talking brought a female figure to the comings of the companion way, and as the skipper finished, Miss Sackett stood on deck. The mate of the sovereign greeted her, and told of her father's determination to stay aboard his ship with three men who desired the chance to make heavy salvage. He didn't suppose any of the crew of the pirate cared to take chances, but if they did, he would let them. He said he could work the wreck into some port, probably Cape Town, and save her. But he will surely be lost, cried Miss Sackett. I shall go to him myself and persuade him not to do this foolish thing. You will let me go in one of the boats, won't you, Captain Thompson? She cried, turning to our skipper. Thompson was sour, but he admired nerve. The fact of the Englishman staying alone aboard his wrecked ship appealed to him where nothing else would. My dear madam, said he with his drawl, you shall certainly do just what you want to while I'm captain of this boat. But I wouldn't persuade your father to do anything against his will. How could a sensible fellow refuse you anything, hey? The young girl overlooked his insolence and smiled her satisfaction. She came forward to where the first boat was getting ready to shove off. The men in her were sullen and ugly, for they had not had their breakfast, and the row would be a long one. The old sailor, Janks, with his pop eyes and face like the slack of a bellows, scowled sourly. At this moment our third officer came on deck and to the lady's side. I was just about to ask her to wait and go in my boat when I heard the shrill tones of our Mr. Bell. Clear that boat and stand by to pass this lady aboard, said he with some show of authority, and a clever nautical style. Allow me, he continued as he offered her his arm at the ladder. His shrill voice caused a smile of wonder and amusement among the strangers, but as they knew their own skipper's daughter, they said nothing besides a few remarks among themselves. Don't you wait and have breakfast before you go? He asked her, as she reached the top of the rail, but she refused and decided that her father's strange whim to stay aboard his sinking ship deserved first consideration. In that case I shall have to go along also, for you may be very much exhausted before getting back. Just what good he could do in such a case he did not stop to explain, but climbed over the side, and after lowering her aboard, took his place beside her in the stern sheets. Then he gave orders to get clear, and the boat shot away, while I made shift to get my men something to eat before taking the long pool. In fifteen minutes we were ready to start. Chips wanted to go along to see if anything could be done to help stop the leak in case Captain Sackett still insisted staying aboard. Johnson, the little sailor with the thin legs, sat wide apart, showing daylight between clear to his waist, Hans, the heavy-shouldered swede, and Philippi, a squat dego, made up the rest of the boat's crew. Trundle had come on deck while we were eating from the mess kids, and met the skipper on the poop, where he stopped to talk over some important matter. This importance appeared to increase in a moment, for the skipper swore harshly and pointed forward just as my men were coming aft to go over the side. Rolling, he cried, hold on with that boat a minute and lay aft here. I came to the edge of the poop. Get that ruffian Andrews ready and put him aboard the sovereign. The men here are tired of his ways, and fair exchange is no robbery. We'll take their men, and they'll take one of ours, hey? Do you rise to that? I understood. The men had made it apparent they did not wish to have the fellow aboard since he persisted in his murderous ways. The skipper had been impertuned by Jim to turn back and put him ashore. This he would not think of doing, but to propitiate them, he had struck upon this new method of getting rid of his charge. I called Jim, the young landsman, to lend a hand getting the fellow ready. Andrews cursed us all round and demanded to know what we were going to do with him. No attention was paid to him, however, and he was bundled into the boat handcuffed with his legs free. Tell Captain Sacket I say he's welcome to him, drawled out Thompson over the poop-rail. Good luck to you, Andrews. He continued, you'll have a pleasant voyage with no enemies to rip and cut. So long. This drew forth a volley of oaths from Andrews, but the skipper smiled, and we were soon out of earshot. What do you make of the weather, sir? asked Jim, who pulled stroke-or. I looked over the smooth, heaving surface of the quiet ocean, and there was not the first sign of a breeze anywhere. The sun was partly obscured in a thick haze, which seemed to come from everywhere and fill the entire atmosphere. The first boat was almost aboard the wreck, and we could see her looking like a black speck in the distance. It looks as though it might come on thick, I answered Jim, but there's no danger of our parting company with the pirate yet. There isn't enough wind to move her a knot an hour. It was a long hard pull to the sovereign, and when we arrived her captain was on deck with his daughter. She had finished trying to persuade him to leave his fortune and stood near our third officer, who was ready to start back with the remainder of the crew. All but four men had insisted on leaving. These were the steward, two quarter-masters, and a sailor. If there is any valuable stuff in the way of currency or spices, you can turn them over to me, and our captain will give you his receipt for them, I said as I came over the side. The little Englishman looked slowly up and down my six feet and more of length as I stood on the rail, and I fancied he smiled slightly. He was a florid-faced, bearded man, with clear blue eyes which had no sign of fear in them. I reckon we'll risk taking in what we have, said he. At the same time I want to thank your captain for standing by and taking the men he has already. You don't think he could spare a few volunteers to help me in, do you? I'll give a hundred pounds to every man who'll stand by and run the risk. Well, I stammered. I'm second mate myself, and therefore can't very well leave. But he sent you one extra hand. The fellow is a good enough sailor, but he's in irons for fighting. He wants you to take him in exchange for the men you sent. The florid face of the English captain grew redder. His blue eyes seemed to draw to small points that pricked my inner consciousness. I suppose I showed some of my embarrassment, for he spoke in a gentler tone than I expected. Sir, I keep no one imperil against his wish. Neither do I run a convict ship. You may take your desperado back to your captain with the compliments of Captain Sackett, once of Her Majesty's naval reserve. And tell him the laws of his country are sufficient to deal with all persons. If I did, I answered, you would have your men forced back into your wrecked vessel. And I pointed to the main deck, upon which the sea rolled and swashed in little foamy waves through the side ports, which were now below the heave of the swell. She was clear under a midships, and only the top-gallant forecastle and poop were out of the water, which was now nearly level with the floor in the after-cabin. Everything showed wreck and ruin, from the splintered spars and tangled rigging, to the yellow-white gaps in her bow-works where the masts had crashed through. The will of the Lord is not to be set aside, he went on with solemn and pious cheerfulness. I would not risk so many lives for a man in irons. If, however, he will recognize the laws of the Almighty, I shall turn him adrift and trust that my mercy will not meet within gratitude. You had better get my men ready, and if you can, take the trunks and cabin-fixings in a boat. They might come to wrong here. My daughter will show where the things are I should like saved. As for myself, I shall stay where duty calls me, and will take this ship into some port and save her cargo, or go down in her. If I lose her, I lose my all, and with a wife and family I had better be gone with it. The Lord will temper the wind to the shorn lambs. I called to Hans and Johnson to pass up the prisoner, and he soon stood on the sovereign's poop, where he glared around him and made some inaudible remarks. The third mate, who stood nearby, was about to speak to him when Captain Sackett stepped forward. My man, said he, your captain has asked me to keep you here and help me work this ship in. You've been a master yourself, they tell me, so you will appreciate my difficulty. The Lord, however, always helps those who help themselves, and with his help we will land this vessel safe in port. Andrews looked at the stout skipper sourly for a moment, then he gave a deep snort and spat vulgarly upon the deck at his host's feet. What kind of damn fool have I run up again now, hey? He mused in a low tone, as though speaking to himself, while he looked the skipper over. Am I dreaming, or do I eternally run up again nautical lunatic asylums? That's the question. My dear fellow, you don't seem to relish the fact that you must serve aboard here, said Sackett. There is nothing irrational in trying to save a vessel when it's your plain duty to do so. The Lord sometimes dismisses us to try us. We must not give up our duty because we have hardships to encounter. Your captain cannot take care of so many people, probably, and wishes you to stay here with me. If you will pass your word to do your share of the work, as I believe you will, I shall cast off those irons this instant and put you second in command. There will then be five of us, all able-bodied men, to get her into the Cape. Of all the slum-gullion I ever had stick in my craw, this beats me. Observe the prisoner in his even tone without taking his eyes off Sackett. I pass my word, and you turn me loose to do my duty. Well, say, old man, can you tell me of a miracle you reads out of your Bible? I once to make a comparison. Here he gave a loud snort and grinned. There's an old saying that any port is good in a storm. He went on. And likewise any ship in a calm. I rise to it, old man. I'll be your mate. For if things ain't all gone wrong, I'll sail straight into heaven with you. Cast me loose. It shall be done at once, said Sackett. I shall request, sir, said he, turning to me, that the irons be stricken off your man. I told chips to go ahead and cut them, and then followed Miss Sackett and the third mate below to get what belongings they wanted sent aboard the pirate to be kept clear of water. It's a pity Papa would do this absurd thing, said Miss Sackett, impetuously, as she landed upon the cabin deck. I was following close behind her on the companion and hastened to cheer her. There's not much danger, I said, for the vessel can't possibly sink with all the oil in wood in her. He will probably bring her in all right and save many thousands of dollars. Maybe the carpenter can find the leak and plug it. In that case, she'll be as sound as a dollar and safe as a house when they get her pumped. I don't know about it, she answered. I feel that Papa is going to his death, and I know that if Mama finds out he won't leave, she'll come back aboard. Here is one trunk. That chest under the berth is to go also. I'll get what clothes I can gather up and bring them along in a bundle. Goodness! Hear the water slapping about under the deck. It is perfectly dreadful to think of any one staying aboard a ship half sunk like this. The steward, a very clever-looking young man with a brown mustache, helped us get the things on deck, where they were taken in charge by the rest of the men, seven in number, who were going with us. While we were below, chips, after cutting Andrew's adrift, tried to find out where the leak was located. The vessel's hold was so full of water, however, that he gave up the search. Only a survey ever bilge outside would clear up matters and allow work upon it. Captain Sackett had taken an observation, and had figured himself out to be within six hundred miles of Cape Town. He was very thankful for our kindness and stood nearby, wishing us all kinds of good luck, while the things were being lowered over the ship's low side. In a few minutes all hands were called to get into the pirate's boat, the one of the Sovereign being left for the safety of those on board. Miss Sackett took a tearful farewell of her father, and was placed aft. Then we shoved off, and were soon leaving the half-sunkened ship astern. Gatton, said Janks, who sat aft near me, what do you make of that? He put it to a white bank of vapor, which had rolled up from the southward, and suddenly enveloped the Sovereign while we were still two cables' lengths distant. I looked and saw the white mist, which we had not noticed before to be so dense, rolling in long white clouds upon the calm surface of the ocean. In a moment it had enveloped us, and all around us was a white wall, the pirate disappearing ahead. The swell also appeared to be getting a cross-roll to it, and a light air now blew in our faces. I made no answer to the leather-faced sailor, but tried to keep the boat's head before a heavier roll of the sea, and the wake as much like a straight line as possible. There was no compass in the craft, and it would take some nice guesswork to find a ship three miles away. End of chapter. Chapter 11 of Mr. Trunnel, Mate of the Ship Pirate This lever-box recording is in the public domain, and is read by Mark Smith of Simpsonville, South Carolina. Mr. Trunnel, Mate of the Ship Pirate by T. Jenkins Haynes Chapter 11 We went along in silence for some time, the fog seeming to fall like a paw upon the spirits of the men. The wash of the oars and the gurgle of the bow-wave were the only sounds that were audible. After half an hour of this I arose and set a hail through the bank of Mist, which I thought would reach a vessel within half a mile. There was no sound of an answer, the dank vapor appearing to deaden my hail and swallow up all noise a short distance beyond the boat. It was uncanny to feel how weak that yell appeared. I saw Jim looking at me with a strange light in his eyes, as though he felt danger in the air. After an hour more of it, the faces of the men plainly showed their anxiety. Philippi, the dago, was chewing the corner of his dank mustache, and his eyes wandered aft and then forward. Jenkins, with his large wrinkled face gray with a vapor, sat staring ahead, straining his ears for the slightest sound that would locate the vessel. I put both hands to my mouth again, and strained away my hardest. There was no response. The sound falling flat and dull and the wall of Mist. Then I knew we were in danger, and gave the order to stop rowing. The silence around us was now oppressive. We were all waiting to hear some sound that would locate either one or the other of the vessels. The breeze carried the masses of vapor and cool spurts into our faces, and I felt sure the pirate would soon change your bearings under its influence. We had been running away from the main heave of the sea, as I supposed, but now there appeared to be a side long motion running with the swell, and at an angle to its general direction. "'Tis no manner of use trying to keep along as we are. Do you think so?' suggested Chips. We must have passed her.' I hailed again, and after waiting for an answer, headed the boat around in the hope that we had overreached the ship, and would come within hailing distance on our way back. The order was given to pull very easily and listen for sounds. "'This is most disgusting,' said Miss Sackett. I'm as hungry as a bear, and here we'll be out for the Lord only knows how long. I think you might have seen to it that I had some breakfast.' And she looked at Mr. Bell, our third officer. "'There's water under the stern sheets,' suggested that officer, meekly. But the young lady gave a pretty pout and shrugged her shoulders. In a little while we stopped again, and hailed loudly. The only sound and answer was the low hiss of a sea, which begun to make with the breeze, and which broke softly ahead. Suddenly we heard the distant clang of a ship's bell. It sounded far away to starboard. "'Give way, bullies, strong!' I cried, and the next instant we were heading toward it. Then it died away, and we heard it no more. After ten minutes' pull we stopped again for fear of overreaching our mark. We hailed and got no answer. Then we rolled slowly along, listening in the hope that they would ring again. In a little while we lay drifting, and all hands strained their ears for sound. Suddenly something alongside gave a loud snort. I started up, and the men turned their faces forward. A deeper shadow seemed to hang over us, and the breeze died away. Then the snort was repeated, and a voice spoke forth. Of all the damn fools I ever see, that second mate stands way ahead. Now I once thought Trunnel didn't know nothing, but that young welp is a pisonous fool, and must be ripped up the back. Sack it, old man, your daughter can't leave you. Here she be alongside with him boatman again. The voice was drawing and not loud, but I recognized it fast enough. In an instant the boat's bow struck the side of the sovereign, and we saw Andrews leaning over the rail near us, looking down with a sour smile. There was nothing to do but go aboard, for we had nothing to eat in the small boat, and the danger of getting lost entirely was too great to make another attempt to get back to the pirate while the fog lasted. Miss Sackett was helped over the rail by her father, who came up immediately, and the rest scrambled over with some choice English oaths as they commented upon their luck. Andrews gave me a queer look as I climbed past him, and for an instant I was ready to spring upon him. But he gave a snort of disgust and turned away. Chips, Jim, and the others of our crew came aboard, and the small boat was dropped astern where she towed easily. The breeze just giving the sunken ship steering way under the storm-topsel. The beef barrels were in no way injured by their immersion in salt water, so Captain Sackett gave the steward orders to prepare a meal for all hands upon the cabin's stove. Salt junk and tinned fruits were served for everybody who cared to eat them, and afterward all hands felt better. The ship's water tanks were full of good water, and as she listed considerably to starboard under the gentle breeze, owing to her waterlogged condition, the port tank was accessible from the deck pipe. I had enough to eat before coming out, and the predicament we were in did not tend to strengthen my appetite. I, however, made out to sit down at the cabin table with Captain Sackett, Andrews, who was now his mate, and our third officer. Miss Sackett joined us, and we fell too. No sooner had Andrews started to shovel in the good junk and Mr. Bell the fruit, than Sackett arose from the table and looked severely down upon them. Fortunately my satisfied appetite had prevented any unnecessary hurry to eat, on my part, for our new skipper frowned heavily. I wished to give thanks, o Lord, said he, raising his eyes toward the skylight, and dropping his voice into a dignified tone. For thy kind mercy in delivering us from the perils of the deep, make us duly thankful for thy mercy, and for the food thou hast seen fit to place before us. Amen. Sounded a gruff voice beside me. I looked at Andrews, but he appeared to pay no attention whatever to what was transpiring. Then I turned to Sackett to see if he had taken offence. The stout, ruddy-faced skipper seemed to be changed to stone for an instant, and his fixed glare was full upon Andrews. The ruffian appeared to enjoy the situation, for he gave a fierce snort, and turned his face to the skipper. No offence, old man, sit down and eat your grub. There's no use working up on Christian-like feeling between us simply because I'm not going to let any damn foolishness stand between me and my vitals. Eat while you may, says I, and God bless you for a kind-hearted gentle skipper. You says yourself that the Lord helps them as helps themselves, which goes to show I'll just make a stab for another piece of that junk before some other son of a gun runs afoul of it and helps himself, which would be going, of course, again the will of the Lord. Sackett hardly breathed. His face turned purple with rage. Andrews took no notice of him, saved to draw a revolver from his pocket and place it on the table beside his plate. Sit down and eat, Papa, said Miss Sackett, who was at his right hand, and as she did so she placed her hand upon his shoulder. The touch of his daughter's hand seemed to bring the skipper back to his senses, or rather seemed to enable him to thrust his present feelings aside for her sake. He sat down and stared at Andrews for fully a minute, while that ruffian ate and winked off times at Mr. Bell. Once in a while he would give a loud snort and hold his face upward for an instant. Then a sour smile would play around his ugly mouth as though he enjoyed his humor intensely. The third officer frowned severely at him several times, and then asked in his silly voice if he would please behave himself. The effect was altogether too ludicrous to be born. Miss Sackett smiled in spite of herself, and I almost laughed outright. Then, feeling sorry for my host, I began to eat as an excuse to hide my feelings. Sackett ate little, and in silence. When he was through he arose and left for the deck, leaving the rest of us at the table. Miss Sackett followed him quickly as though she instinctively felt what might happen if she remained. I sat there looking at Andrews for some moments. He raised his head several times and gave forth his peculiar snort, smiling at Mr. Bell. Young fellow, said he slowly, we've had a turn or two and nothing much as come of it. Let's shake and call it square. And he held out his hand toward me. I suppose you really had some cause to lose your temper, I answered. The day I hailed you from the poop, because you were used to commanding there. I've heard many unpleasant things about you, Captain Andrews, but if you will let matters pass, I'm willing. I never turned down a man yet on hearsay when he was willing to see me halfway. Here I took his hard muscular hand and held it for a moment. He smiled sourly again, but said no more about our fight. You see, he went on after a moment's pause. I'm second in command here now, and I'll show you no such treatment like what I got aboard the pirate. This gun I have here is only to let a man see his limit afore it's too late. If I didn't show it, he might go too far. And then— Well, I reckon you know just what might happen, being as trunel as told you what a gentle, soft-hearted fellow I am. He's a rum little dog, that fuzzy-headed fellow, trunel. Did you ever see such arms in anything but an ape? Ellen blazes he could squeeze a man worse than a Coney Island maiden gal. Speaking of maidens, just let me hint a minute in regard to the one aboard here. She's a daisy, an out-and-out daisy, and if there's a going to be any love-making going on around, I'll do it. Yes, sir, just don't take any of my duties upon yourself. I'll do it. I'll do it. Just remind yourself of that, Mr. Rowling, and we'll get along frustrate. The old man don't know me yet, but Mr. Bell here. Well, Mr. Bell knows a thing or two concerning captains, which will be worth a heap of gold to some people. The third mate looked at me with his boyish eyes for an instant, and his ruddy cheeks seemed to blush. Then he said softly, What he means is that you and the rest are only passengers now. All the men from the pirate, you know. There'll be some salvage for the four who elected to stay aboard this vessel, and if you understand it in this light, you, chips, gym, and the rest are welcome as passengers. If you don't, the boat is at your disposal any time. I see, I said. You were also of the party elected to stay with Captain Sackett and draw salvage? That's about the size of it. I went on deck, and chips, gym, and the men went below to get something to eat. Sackett was standing at the break of the poop as I came up, and his daughter stood beside him. They were evidently an earnest conversation over the scene below, for as I drew near, Miss Sackett turned to me, and said with some show of contempt in her voice, Your Captain was very kind to send us your volunteer, and we appreciate it, Mr. Rowling. Perhaps the reason he had no more men off of their services for a dangerous mission was because he was short of irons. If you mean that American sailors have to be ironed into danger, you are mistaken. I answered, somewhat nettle. However, I quite agree with you in regard to this one as an awkward fellow. Better wait and see how he acts in time of danger before condemning him. I had not the heart to tell her what a ruffian they had turned loose upon her father. It would do little good, for Sackett had passed his word to make Andrews second in command, and I knew from what I had seen of this one that he had kept it at any cost. As for Chips, myself, and the rest of the men, seven of the sovereign's crew and ourselves, we were simply passengers, as Mr. Bell had informed us. We had no right whatever to take any part in affairs aboard, for the salvage would fall to those who elected to stay. Captain Sackett moved away from me as I stood talking to his daughter, and showed he did not wish to discuss anything to his daughter, and showed he did not wish to discuss Andrews. He went to the edge of the poop, and stared down on the main deck where the water surged to and fro with the swell. He had a badly wrecked ship under him, and there was little time to lose getting her in better condition, for a sudden blow might start to break her up, or roll the seas over her so badly that no one could live aboard. I stood for some minutes talking to the young girl, and when her father spoke to me, she held out her hand, smiling. We'll be shipmates now, and you'll have a chance to show what a Yankee sailor can do. I believe in heroes, when they're civil, she added. Unfortunately for the worshipper of heroes, there is a great deal left to the Goddess' chance in the picking of them, I answered. Admirations for human beings should not be hysterical. From the little I've seen of men during the six voyages I've made around the world in this ship with Papa, your advice is somewhat superfluous. She said, with the slightest raising of the eyebrows, then she went half to the taff rail, and stood gazing into the fog a stern. Mr. Rowling, said Sackett, there's no use of thinking about leaving the ship while the fog lasts now. You might have made the pirate by close reckoning before. But she must have changed her bearings fully a half a dozen points since you started. She's under canvas, and this breeze will send her along at least six knots, and drift her two with the yards aback. You might as well take hold here and get some of your men to lend a hand. The four mast is still alongside, and we might get a jury rig on her without danger of healing her on her bilge. She's well loaded, the oil and light stuff on top, so she won't be apt to turn turtle. It was, as he said. We were all in the same ship, so as to speak, wrecked and waterlogged to the southward of the Cape. The best thing to do was to take it in the right spirit, and fall to work without delay, getting her in a ship-shaped condition as possible. The fog might last a week, and the pirate might get clear across the equator before stopping a second time in her course. I knew that even Trunnel would not wait more than a few hours, for if we did not turn up then, it was duff to dog's belly, as the saying went, that we wouldn't heave in sight at all. The ocean is a large place for a small boat to get lost in, and without compass or sextant there would be little chance for her to overhaul a ship standing along a certain course. The dense vapor rolled in cool masses over the wreck, and the gentle breeze freshened so that the topsoil would still drew fare from the yard, bellied out and strained away taut on a bowline, taking the wind from almost due north or dead away from the Cape. The sovereign shoved through it log-wise under the pool, the swell roaring and gurgling along her sunken channels and through her water-ports. She was making not more than a mile an hour, or hardly as fast as a man could swim. Yet on she went, and as she did so, she was leaving behind our last hope of being picked up. The hulk was far from convincing us of her sea-worthiness. I had been in—a sailor is never on board—two ships that had seen fit to leave me above them, but their last throws were no more trying to the nerves than the ugly rooting of the sovereign into the swell during that night. At each roll she appeared to be on the way to turn her keel toward the sky, and at a plunge slowly down a sea slope she made us hold our breaths. Down, down, and under she would gouge, the water roaring and seething over sunken decks of mid-chips, and even pouring over the top-galloch rail until it would seem certain she was making her way to the bottom. And I would instinctively start to rise from the cabin transom to make a break for the deck. Then she would finally stop and take a slow heave to windward, which started a Niagara thundering below the deck, where the cargo was torn loose and sent crashing about in a whirlpool. I once read a description by an English landsman of a shipwreck, and he told how the water would rest for an instant level with the rail, seeming to pause motionless for a fraction of a second before flowing over and sinking the ship. I lay a long time wondering vaguely at an imagination that could make such a description possible, and as a heaving swell would start along the rail at the waist and go thundering along in a roaring surf the entire length of the midship section over the edge, fetching up with a crash against the forward cabin bulkhead. I heartily wished the rider were aboard to share our sufferings. There was no spoon-and-teacup business about that ship, and it sometimes seemed as though seven or eight seas were rolling over her rails from all directions at once. We were still below the 38th parallel, and consequently the morning broke early, for it was January and mid-summer. I arose from the transom and went on deck at dawn and found that the fog had lifted. Andrews met me as I came from below and gave me a nod as I took in the horizon line at a glance. I reckon old hook-nose didn't care to wait any longer, he growled sourly. I took up the glass from the wheel-box and scanned the line carefully. There was not a thing in sight saved the smooth swell, ruffled now by the slight breeze, and turning a deep blue gray in the light of the early morning. The sun rose from a cloudless horizon and shone warmly upon the wreck. The foam glistened and sparkled in the rosy sunlight, and looking over the rail I could see deep down into the clear depths. The copper on the ship's bilge looked a light gray, and even the tacks were visible. She drifted slowly along with just steering-way, and the spar alongside, which the men had tried to get aboard again, made a gurgling wake with its heel. What do you make of it, chips? I asked, as the carpenter waited out in the waste and came up the poop ladder. Long cruise and plenty of water, that's about the size of it. Don't you think, sir?" The carpenter answered. Trunnel has been took off, for sure. I don't mind sticking aboard the bleeding hooker if there was a chance to get the salvage. But no fear of that while Andrews is here. He'll block any argument to divvy up. Seems as we might even get down under her bilge during the spell of weather, and see where the leak is located. Tis a butt started, most like. Them English stevedores gently rams the stuffing out of a ship in spite of the marks they puts on them. Captain Sackett came from below and joined us. I'd like to get that foremaster board while it holds calm, said he, and if you'll start the men, we'll have it done by noon. The sooner we all work together, the better. We ought to get sail on forward in less than a week, and then, with the jury top-massed, make enough way to get in while the grub holds out. The steward got breakfast in the after-cabin, and as soon as the men had eaten they were turned to rigging tackles to hoist the dragging foremaster board. It was trailing by the lee rigging which had held, and it had thumped and pounded along the ship's side to such an extent during the blow that several of her strikes were nearly punched through. It was a beautiful morning. The blue sky overhead and the calm blue ocean all around us. The men worked well, and even the sour ruffian Andrews, who stood near and took charge of part of the work, for he was an expert sailor, seemed to brighten under the sun's influence. Chips went to work at the stump of the foremast and cut well into it at a point almost level with the deck. This he fashioned into a scarf-joint for a corresponding cut in the piece of mast which had gone overboard. Tackles were rigged from the main top-massed head, and by a careful bracing with guys forward and at both sides the wreck of the foremast was slowly raised aboard. The sovereign forged ahead faster when relieved of this load. On the second day, when we had the foremast fished, and the yards which had held to it safe on deck, ready to be hoisted and slung again, we found that the vessel had made over seventy miles to the westward along the thirty-eighth parallel. This was over a mile an hour, but of course some of this drift was due to the edge of the Agulis current which was setting somewhat to the southward and westward. Andrews had little to say to me or to Chips. In fact, he appeared to be satisfied with his lot now that he seemed sure of getting salvage money. Only Jim, who seemed to have eyes everywhere, distrusted the man, and spoke to me about him. We had now been on the wreck five days, working and rigging away at the foremast, and the calm, beautiful weather held with no signs of a change. Jim was hanging over the side, resting his feet on the four channels while he helped Chips to bolt in a dead eye which had been torn out when the mast had gone. The sun was warm and shone brilliantly, and Chips sweated and grunted as he pounded away at the iron. There were no other men in our immediate vicinity, so after pounding away in silence for a quarter of an hour, the carpenter spoke. "'Tis bloody well we've been treated to get no share of the wreck, when here we are sweating our brains out with the work of refittin,' said he. And what the devil is a few hundred pounds of salvage to me!' growled Jim hot with his exertion. See here, man, I've left ten thousand behind me on the pirate. And a pirate's regard for the truth along with it!' added Chips, smiting the lug-bolt heavily. Jim's face was so serious that I asked what he meant, and with the heat of the work upon him and the absolute hopelessness of ever getting back aboard our ship, before his eyes, he spoke out, "'Did you ever hear of Jackwell, the fellow who cracked the bank of Sydney?' he asked. Chips and I both admitted that we had. He was the most notorious burglar in the Southern Hemisphere. "'But what are you askin' such a question for?' asked Chips. What's burglar's got to do with losing salvage?' He was aboard the pirate. He was aboard the pirate. And a reward awaits the lucky dog who lands him. Just a trifle of ten thousand dollars,' said Jim fiercely. Chips turned on him. "'Is it sure enough truth, your tellin', or just a yarn to sue their feelings?' he demanded. I don't call to mind any gallus-lookin' chap in the watch.' He never stood watch, and I wasn't certain of him until we were out to sea, and it was too late. What do you suppose I tried to get trunel to go back for? T'was the old man, ya stupid wood-splitter? Ya don't think I'm a sailor, do ya?' "'Pom, me soul, how could I? I never had the heart to hurt ya feelings, Jim, me son. Or you'd have heard from me before. But what are ya, then?' And Chips leaned back against the rail. "'Nothin', but a—' And Jim opened his coat, which he'd always worn since coming aboard the pirate. On the inside was a silver shield stamped handsomely with the insignia of the detective-core of Melbourne. "'A sea-lawyer aboard a derelict, yet do fairly well, considerin'—and the old man, you don't really mean it.' "'What?' I asked. Do you mean that Thompson's a burglar, and that he's Jackwell himself?' "'Nothing else, and I'm out for the reward, which I won't get now. You now know how he came aboard. If I'd only been a few hours sooner, it would have been all right. He was about to buy his passage when he found the real Captain Thompson wasn't there, and would probably not be down until the last minute.' That was enough for him. Trunel was taken clear aback by his nerve. It was a risky thing to do, but Jackwell takes risks. The man has more real cheek and impudence than any above ground or water, either, for that matter. He ain't much afraid of a fight when it comes to it, although he'd rather use his wits than his gun. That's just what makes me feel sore. But that isn't all. Andrews is going to get clear of some of us. "'He's tried it several times on me,' I said, with a smile. What makes you think he'll try again?' I heard enough of what was passing between that third maiden's steward last night to know it. But I don't want to scare you, fellows,' he added, with a smile. Chips gave a grunt of disgust, and I spat contemptuously over the side without further remark. Our manner was not lost on Jim. He sobered instantly. "'You know we're in the way, aboard. If we land the hooker all right,' he said slowly. That's clear as mud. You know also that Trunnell and the rest aboard the pirate know we don't belong here and have an any right to stay except as passengers. Trunnell saw us put off in the boat. He could see us plainly when we started and was, of course, looking at us all the time until the fog closed in. You follow this lay, don't you?' Chips and I nodded. "'Well, if the sovereign turns up with our boat-load missing and sack it dead, she'll be in good evidence of what all hands aboard the pirate saw, won't she?' It dawned suddenly upon us that this was a fact. Trunnell and Thompson, and in fact all hands, were looking after us, waiting for us to come back aboard before swinging the yards and standing away again on our course. There wasn't a man aboard the pirate, we felt certain, who had not seen the boat start away from the ship with our men and missack it aboard her, for they had nothing in the world to do but watch. Then they had seen the fog envelop us on our way. We had not turned up, and the only thing to infer, if the sovereign came in without us, was that we had missed our way and had gone adrift in the southern ocean. The word of Andrews and the rest aboard the English ship could hardly be doubted under the circumstances. If we cut adrift in the small boat, or were done away with, as Jim suggested, our friends would be witnesses who would help our enemies by any testimony they might give. Chips dropped his hammer and drew a hand across his forehead, thinking. "'What did the third mate say in regard to our going?' I asked Jim. I couldn't hear the talk, only part of a sentence whispered by that man-woman, when the steward came into the cabin during the mid-watch last night, with a can of salmon and some ship-spread. They stood near the door of the alleyway, talking, and I suddenly came bulging into them with rubber boots on. He said something about Andrews being a fine captain, and perfectly capable of taking this ship in or out of any port on the African coast. That's all. I stopped serving the end of the lanyard I was at work on, and looked across the deck to where Andrews stood with several men. His sinister face with its sour smile was turned toward us, as though he studied our thoughts. "'You're not over-busy, Mr. Rowling,' said Sackett, coming along the rail to the rigging. I wish you and the carpenter would try to get a gant line over the side, and look along under her for the butt. In this clear water the chances are good for getting a sight of it, if it's well up on her bilge. We ought to stop her up some, while the calm lasts." CHAPTER XIII OF MR. TRUNNELL MATE OF THE SHIP PIRATE This LibriVox recording is in the public domain, and is read by Mark Smith of Simpsonville, South Carolina. MR. TRUNNELL MATE OF THE SHIP PIRATE By T. Jenkins Haynes. CHAPTER XIII At noon Sackett came on deck to take the sun. His second officer, Jernigan, a heavily-built man with mutton-chop whiskers of a colorless hue, was incapable of the smallest attempt at navigation, so he stood idly by while his superior let the sun rise until it reached its highest point. "'Eight bells!' cried Sackett, and went below to work out the sight. By the grace of God!' echoed Andrews, who had come up upon the poop. The second officer smiled at his attempted wit, and struck off the bells. He appeared to be quite friendly with Andrews, and stopped a moment afterward to chat with him. When we went below to dinner the words of Jim were fresh in my mind. How would Andrews try to get clear of us? The fact that he intended to do it, I firmly believed, for the Ruffian had such a sinister character that I felt certain his only reason for being apparently satisfied at present was because he intended some treachery. What part the third officer of the pirate would play in the affair I could hardly guess? Jim knew nothing about him, but since he came aboard with Thompson there was every reason to believe that this rosy-cheeked youngster with a girl's voice was an accomplished villain. That Andrews and he understood each other was certain. Andrews was most blasphemous at meals, and would endeavour to engage Sackett in an argument concerning devils, hell, and many other subjects not relating to navigation of the Indian Ocean. At such times the third mate would raise his piping voice and plead with Andrews not to shock him with his profanity. The second officer of the Sovereign appeared to enjoy the situation and would laugh until ordered from the table by Sackett. Miss Sackett, of course, would not dine with the rest but had her meals served in her stateroom by the steward, who did it with a very bad grace, grumbling and complaining at the extra work. He was a good-looking young man, this steward, and the fact that he complained told plainly that there was something between the men that was doing away with discipline. The steward's name was Dalton, and he was a fair specimen of the London Cockney. Stout and strong he was as ignorant as an animal and about as easily persuaded into doing things as an obstinate mule. He was also about as hard to dissuade. The other men of the Sovereign's crew were Bull England, a powerful sailor who had served many years in the Navy, and it was also a prize fighter, and Dog Daniels, a surly old fellow who was continually growling at everything. He was six feet, six inches, and over in height, and as lean and gaunt as the white albatross hovering over our wake. Jernigan, the second officer, made the last but not the least of the select four who had elected to stay aboard with Sackett to take in the ship and get salvage. If Andrews had weapons, which I had reason to believe he had since a show of a revolver upon the captain's table, there would be six armed men against thirteen and a woman, for I had no reason to doubt Sackett was to be done away with, if the rest were. I pondered while I ate the cold junk and ship spread, trusting to Andrews holding forth to Mr. Bell and Jernigan upon the fallacy of trusting to a power that was highly unintelligible. For instance, said he, for why should I give thanks for this stinking junk meat when I don't know but what Dalton there has put his dirty hands on it and pisoned it fit to kill? How do I know if he washes his hands before cooking, hey? Look at them warts and tell me if they ain't catchin'. Just think of a stomach full of warts. Is that anything to be thankful for, I'd like to know. The idea amused Jernigan, but it set me to thinking about the medicine chest in spite of myself. Sackett scowled while this sort of talk went on, but said nothing to bring forth an outbreak from Andrews. I wondered why he did not try to get his men with him and clap the fellow in irons. There was every reason to believe they would have obeyed him at first, but he hesitated for some religious purpose better known to himself, until the fellow had obtained such a sway over the crew that it was now doubtful if it could be done without an open fight between them and the men he had to back him. Sackett announced to me that we had made no Westing to speak of, on account of the ship now being in the south-easterly set of the Agulis Current. We had drifted along with the topsoil and two stay-sales drawing from the main, and a sort of tri-sale set from a preventer-stay leading aft. In spite of this amount of canvas the breeze had been so light that the sunken ship had not made a mile in two hours. It was disheartening, but if we could only get at the leak and stop some of the water from flowing into her, we might get her up a bit and then she would move faster. Her hatch-comings were high, and the sea had not washed clear over them yet, while her high strakes would be all the tighter now that they had been under water for days. This seemed to be a very fair argument, but while the skipper talked my eyes were upon the glass case at the end of the cabin where a row of bottles showed through the front and above the wooden frames. They contained the drugs usually carried aboard ship, and while the skipper talked to me I wondered if there were any poisons in that case which would be of service to Andrews. When we were through, the captain and I left the cabin, for there had been no watches at meals, all had eaten together in order to facilitate matters of cooking, the men only eating at different times from the officers. As we passed up the after-companion way, I looked into the case and endeavored to interest the skipper in drugs for the men in case of sickness. He showed me a bottle of arnica, one of squibs, another of peppermint, and many other drugs used as simple remedies. At the end of a long row was one containing a white powder, unlabeled. I picked it up and opened the vial, thinking to taste it to see if it was quinine. Its weight, however, made me certain this could not be, and I was just about to put a tip on my tongue when Sack had stopped me. It's bichloride of mercury, don't taste it, said he. I was not much of a chemist, for a mate's knowledge of the atomic theory must necessarily be slight. What's that? I asked. Oh, a poison! I only keep it for vermin and certain skin diseases. It's too deadly to keep around, though, and I have a notion to heave it overboard. Steamer on starboard quarter, sir! came the cry of England, who was at the wheel. We were bounding up the companion way in an instant, and looking to the northward as soon as our feet struck the deck. There, sure enough, was a dark smudge of smoke on the horizon. Get the glass, said Sacket. He took it and gazed hard at the dark streak. I can just make out her mast-heads. She seems to be coming along this way, he said, after a moment. All hands gathered upon the poop and watched the smoke. Those who hadn't had their dinner hastily went below and came up again with the junk in their hands, munching it as they stood gazing after the rising mast-heads. Even the funnel of the steamer rose above the horizon and showed that she was standing almost directly parallel to our course. We had run up a distress signal from the main, and now all waited until the stranger should make it out and send a boat, or heave, too. Our own boat was towing a stern, so Sacket had her drawn up to the mizzen channels, ready for the men to get aboard. Miss Sacket came from below and announced that she was ready to accompany the boat. If you are silly enough to stay, Papa, I can't help it, she said. I am tired of sitting around in a cabin with my feet in the water, eating stuff fit for pigs. I think you really ought to give the old boat up. So do I, Missy, said Andrews. I can't think of any good at coming to the old man by staying aboard a craft half-sunkin' like this one. I think your girl is giving you good advice, Captain Sacket. I think you heard me state just how I felt about the matter, Mr. Andrews, replied the Captain. If you are disposed to quit, you can go in the boat. Oh, no! said the Ruffian. I intend to stay. And he lent such emphasis to the last word that Sacket gave him a sharp glance to see if he meant anything more. In half an hour the steamer was passing abreast, and we were in the boat rowing hard to head her off. We set a signal on our mast forward and pulled desperately, but she never even slowed down, passing along half a mile distant on the calm ocean. She must have seen us, for the day was bright and cloudless as could be. We hailed and waved until she was a speck to the westward, leaving us alone again, save for the sunken ship under our lee. It's just the way with a dago, said Jenks. They always leaves a fellow just when they shouldn't, and when I first seen that yowler flag I felt pretty sure we'd come in for something like this. No one said anything further, for our disappointment was sharp. Even Philippi, the Portuguese, took no offense at the allusion to dagoes, but rowed in silence back to the sovereign. It seems like you can't leave us, said Andrews, sourly, when we returned. There ain't much room aboard this hooker, and I don't see why you forever turn back to her when you ain't wanted here. Jenks climbed up the mizzen channels, which were now no higher than the boat's bow, and made the painter fast on deck without remark. Chips followed him closely. If you main there's no room aboard for us, then why in hell don't you get out of the way and rid the ship of a useless ruffian, said the Irishman. Andrews scowled at him, but changed his look into a sour smile. By the grace of the good Lord I never rips up a sailor for slack-jaw aboard the Lord's special appointed ship. Maybe we'll settle the matter of leaving later on, said the ruffian. Let there be an end of this talk, sir, said Sackett. Get your men to work, Mr. Andrews, and you, Mr. Rawling, get the passengers out of that boat and stand by to try to find the leak. I don't intend to have any more of this eternal bickering. Miss Sackett was helped aboard again. As she stepped on deck, she whispered, There's no use, Mr. Rawling. We will have to get out. The only trouble is that the water is gaining slowly in the cabin, and I'm afraid for Papa. It's a pity he won't desert her, I answered, but if we get away Andrews and the rest will be more apt to help him honestly. They won't while we're here, and he won't force any of his men to stay and obey orders, as he should. If he only would we might get the ship in before a week more of it. It's his way, said the girl. He believes no captain has the right to endanger his men for gain. You couldn't take him by force, for he'd make things warm after he got ashore. If we could only get some of the water out of her and get away, he could get her in with England, Jernigan, Daniels, and Dalton. Your two men added would make seven. These men could handle the canvas and steer her as well as twelve. I didn't like to tell her that the devil himself would hardly be safe in the same ship with Andrews. It was quite possible that the Ruffian would turn to and do good work for his share of the salvage when he got clear of the rest of us, for the amount would be large and tempting. Sacket would be of more service to him alive than dead. We'll get at the leak this afternoon, if it's possible, I said, and the young girl went back to her stade-room.