Sam Steele's Adventures in Panama. Baum Lyman Frank

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СКАЧАТЬ growing musty until Spring comes and the Seagull is ready for launching. I’m dead tired of loafing around.”

      He began to chuckle and cough and choke, but finally controlled himself sufficiently to gasp:

      “So’m I, Sam!”

      “You?”

      “Tired as blazes. New York’s a frost, Sam. Nothin’ doin’ there that’s worth mentionin’. All smug-faced men an’ painted-faced women. No sassiety, more policemen than there is sailors, hair-cuts thirty-five cents an’ two five-cent drinks fer a quarter. I feel like Alladin an’ the Forty Thieves – me bein’ Alladin.”

      “But, Uncle, it wasn’t Aladdin that the Forty – ”

      “Never mind that. Got a spare bunk aboard, Sam?”

      I laughed; but there was no use in being surprised at anything Uncle Naboth did.

      “I’ve got a whole empty cabin – second mate’s.”

      “All right. When do we sail?”

      “Three o’clock, Uncle Naboth – sharp.”

      “Very good.”

      He turned and ambled away toward the town, and, rather thoughtfully, I entered my boat and was rowed out to the Gladys H.

      CHAPTER III

      THE MOIT CONVERTIBLE AUTOMOBILE

      The flat-boat came alongside within the hour. On it was a big object covered with soiled canvas and tied ’round and ’round with cords like a package from the grocer. Beside it stood Moit, motionless until the barge made fast and Ned Britton – who at my request had ordered the windlass made ready – had the tackle lowered to hoist it aboard.

      Then the inventor directed his men in a clear-headed, composed way that made the task easy enough. The big bundle appeared not so heavy as it looked, and swung up without much strain on the tackle.

      I found a place for it just abaft the forecastle, where it would not interfere with the sailors in working the ship. In a brief space of time Duncan Moit had screwed hooks in the planking and lashed his bulky contrivance so firmly to the deck that no ordinary pitch or roll of the ship could possibly affect its security.

      Then he carried his trunk and several packages to his cabin, which I had assigned him next my own, and after that I lost sight of him in the responsible duties of our preparations to hoist anchor.

      Luncheon was served while we waited for the tide, but there was as yet no sign of Uncle Naboth. I really did not know whether to expect him or not. He might have changed his mind, I reflected; for unless it was a business matter my uncle and partner was wont to be extremely erratic in his decisions. And he had no business at all to join me on this voyage except, as he had said, that he was tired of the land and wished to relieve his restlessness by a smell of salt water.

      He was no sailor at all, nor even a navigator; but he had sailed so many years as supercargo and trader that he was seldom contented for long on land, and like myself he dreaded the long wait until Spring when our beautiful new craft would be ready for her maiden trip.

      So for a time I thought it probable that he would come alongside; and then I thought it probable he would not. If he ran across Captain Steele, my father was liable to discourage him from making so long and so useless a voyage when no profit was to be had from it. My case was different, for I was a boy still full of a youthful energy and enthusiasm that needed a safety-valve. Moreover, I was pardonably proud of my new position, being for the first time the captain of a ship in name and authority, although I was forced to acknowledge to myself that Ned Britton was the real captain and that without him I would be very helpless indeed.

      Two o’clock came, and then three o’clock; but there was no evidence of Uncle Naboth.

      I gave a sigh of regret and unfeigned disappointment then, and nodded to Ned to weigh anchor, for the tide was beginning to turn.

      My new men worked cheerily and with a will, and soon the anchor was apeak, our mainsail set and we were standing out to sea on our doubtful attempt to round the Horn and reach the blue waters of the Pacific.

      We had left the bay and were standing well out from the coast, when I happened to glance over the rail and notice a small launch coming toward us from the harbor at full speed. They were unable to signal from that distance, but I brought a powerful glass and soon made out the form of Uncle Naboth standing upright in the middle of the little craft and gracefully waving a red handkerchief.

      I had Ned luff and lay to, laughing to think how nearly the little uncle had missed us, and before long the launch covered the distance between us and came alongside.

      Uncle Naboth was gorgeous in appearance. He was dressed in a vividly checked suit and wore a tourist cap perched jauntily atop his iron-gray locks. His shirt bosom was wonderfully pleated, his shoes of shiny patent-leather, and he wore yellow kid gloves that wrinkled dreadfully. Moreover – the greatest wonder of all, to me – my uncle was smoking a big, fat cigar instead of his accustomed corn-cob pipe, and he had a kodak slung over one shoulder and a marine-glass over the other.

      First of all my uncle sent his traps up the side. Then he began a long but calm argument with the crew of the launch, who were greatly excited, and this might have continued indefinitely had not Ned become impatient and yelled a warning that he was about to tack. At this Uncle Naboth thrust some money in the hand of the skipper and leisurely ascended the ladder while a chorus of curses and threats fell upon his unheeding ears.

      “Nearly missed you, Sam, didn’t I?” he said, nodding cheerfully as the sails filled and we headed into the breeze again. “Close shave, but no alum or bay-rum.”

      “What made you late, Uncle?”

      “Had to do a lot to git my outfit ready,” he said, puffing his cigar, smoothing out his gloves and at the same time casting a critical eye over the deck. “First time in my life, nevvy, that I’ve went to sea on a pleasure-trip. No business to look after, no worry, no figgerin’. Jest sailin’ away o’er the deep blue sea with a jolly crew is the life for me. Eh, Sam?”

      “Right you are, Uncle. You’re just a passenger, and a mighty welcome one. I’m glad you caught us.”

      “Stern chase, but not a long one. What do you s’pose, Sam? I had to pay them pirates in that half-grown steamboat thirty dollars to get me aboard.”

      “Thirty dollars!”

      “Dreadful, wasn’t it? And then they wanted sixty. Took me for a tourist gent ’cause I looked the part. But I was bound to come, an’ they was onto my anxiousness, so it might be expected as they’d soak me good an’ plenty. Where’d you say you was bound for, Sam?”

      “Down the coast, around the Horn, and up the Pacific to San Pedro.”

      “Sounds interestin’.”

      His bright little eye had been observant.

      “What’s aboard, my lad?”

      “Steel beams for some new buildings in Los Angeles.”

      “Loaded rather heavy, ain’t she?”

      “Too heavy, Uncle.”

      “H-m-m. СКАЧАТЬ