Название: A Sailor Boy with Dewey
Автор: Stratemeyer Edward
Издательство: Bookwire
Жанр: Документальная литература
isbn: 4064066068172
isbn:
"You let go of that arm," I said, as I found Captain Kenny's harsh face poked out close to my cheek.
"I'll let go when I'm done with you, not afore!" he went on, with increasing wrath. "Call me a drunkard, will ye!" And he gave the arm a savage twist that hurt not a little. "On board o' my own ship, too!"
"If I did I only spoke the truth," I said steadily. "You drink altogether too much for the good of those on board. We are going to have a big storm soon, and you ought to have your wits about you, if you want to save the Dart from going down."
"I know my business, boy—ye can't teach it me nohow! Take thet fer talkin' to me in this fashion!"
Releasing my arm, he aimed a heavy blow at my head. But I was on the alert and dodged, and the blow nearly carried the irate skipper off his feet. Then, as he came on again, I shoved him backward, and down he went in a heap on the deck.
"By Jove, now you've done it!" whispered Dan.
"I don't care, it serves him right," I answered. "He had no right to touch me."
"That's true. But you must remember that a captain is king on his own deck, on the high seas."
"A brute can never be a king—and make me submit, Dan."
By this time Captain Kenny was scrambling up, his face full of rage. Instantly he made for me again.
"I'll teach ye!" he screamed. "You good-fer-nuthin landlubber! I've had it in fer ye ever since ye took passage. Maybe my ship aint good enough fer ye! If thet's so, I'll pitch ye overboard!" And he tried to grab me once more.
But now Dan stepped between us. "Captain Kenny, you let Raymond alone," he ordered sternly.
"I won't—he's called me a drunkard, and—"
"He told the truth. You attend to your business and we'll attend to ours."
"I'll—I'll put him in irons. He shan't talk so afore my crew!" fumed the captain.
"You shan't touch him."
"Shan't I?" The half-drunken man glared at both of us. Then he backed away, shaking his fist. "Just wait a minute and I'll show you a trick or two—just wait!" And still shaking his fist, he reeled off to the companion way, almost fell down the stairs, and disappeared into the cabin.
CHAPTER II.
THE COLLISION IN THE HURRICANE.
"Now, what is he going to do?" I murmured turning to my companion.
"Something out of the ordinary, that's certain," answered Dan. "He has just enough in him to be thoroughly ugly."
"I don't believe he'll let this matter drop, storm or no storm."
"Not he, Oliver. I'm afraid we have got ourselves into a scrape. I wish we were in sight of Manila."
"So do I. But I haven't done anything wrong. Somebody ought to tell the man that he is drinking too much, Dan."
At that instant Dawson, the mate, came up. He had been standing behind the mainmast and had heard every word uttered. His face showed plainly that he was greatly troubled.
"This is too bad," he observed. "The cap'n bad enough, but you have made him wuss, ten times over, lads."
"He hasn't any right to drink, Dawson."
"We won't talk about thet—seein' as how he's in command and I'm only the fust mate. I'm sorry you quarreled, with the end o' the voyage almost in sight."
"What will he do?" put in Dan.
"I dunno. Drink more, I reckon, an' then come up twict as ugly."
"What about this storm that is coming up?" I questioned.
"I notified him of that half an hour ago."
"And he didn't pay any attention? It's a shame! I don't want to go to the bottom of the China Sea, whether the captain drinks or not."
"None o' us want to go to the bottom, lad. But then——" Tom Dawson ended with a shrug of his shoulders. He realized more than I did what a responsibility would rest upon him did he dare to issue orders contrary to Captain Kenny's wishes.
It was about three o'clock in the afternoon, and the day had been unusually oppressive, even for this latitude, which, as most of my readers must know, never boasts of cold weather, but can easily break the record for scorchers. During the morning, when the sun had shone, the seams of the deck had run with tar, and no one had exposed himself more than was absolutely necessary. But now the sun was hidden by clouds that kept growing darker and darker, and the wind was so strong it could not be otherwise than refreshing.
Captain Kenny had left positive orders that the main and mizzen courses be left as they were, fully set, and both sheets were straining and tugging as though ready to lift the two masts out of their resting places. The forecourse had been taken in, also the jib, but so far this had had no effect on the riding of the Dart, and she dipped her nose into every fourth or fifth wave that came along.
"If I was you I'd take in more sail," remarked Dan, after a pause. "Even if you don't lose a mast, you're running the risk of opening more than one seam. If we founder——"
He did not finish, for at that moment Captain Kenny's head reappeared above the combing of the companion way. He came staggering toward us with his right hand in his jacket pocket and a sickly grin on his unshaven face.
"Now we'll come to terms," he began, with a hiccough.
"Captain Kenny, how about that mainsail?" interrupted the mate. "The wind is freshening rapidly, sir."
"I'll take care o' the—hic—mainsail, when I'll through which these—hic—young rascals," was the answer. "Yarson! Carden!" he bawled out. "Come here, you're wanted."
At once two of the sailors, a Swede and an American, came aft and touched their forelocks.
"Do you know what I'm—hic—going to do?" went on the captain, closing one eye suggestively. "I'm going to place both of you under arrest until we arrive at Manila."
"Arrest!" cried Dan and I simultaneously.
"You shall not arrest me," I added, and my companion said something very similar.
"I said—hic—arrest, and I mean it. Throw up your hands, both of you."
"I refuse to obey the order."
"Do you know that I am the—hic—commander of this ship?"
"You are when you are sober," returned Dan.
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