CAPTAIN MARSHALL IS ANGRY
News circulates quickly on a ship, and it was not long ere Nat heard
from some of the crew that the mate's nephew had come aboard to finish
out the voyage with his uncle. Sam Shaw was installed in a small
stateroom near the mate's, and when the _Jessie Drew_ resumed her way
that afternoon the red-haired youth stood about with a supercilious
air, watching Nat and the others at work.
"Is that all you've got to do?" asked Mr. Dunn, the purser, of Sam, as
he saw the youth standing idly at the rail, when every one else was
busy.
"Sure," replied Sam, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. "I'm a
passenger, I am. I'm making this voyage for my health. Maybe after a
while I'll be an assistant to you."
"Not if I know it," murmured Mr. Dunn. "I like Nat, and I hope I can
keep him. He's doing good work."
He passed on, for he had considerable to do on account of taking on a
new cargo, while Nat, too, was kept busy.
"This just suits me," said Sam Shaw to himself as he leaned over the
rail and looked down into the blue waters of the lake. "I'm glad Uncle
Joe sent for me to join him. He said in his letter there might be a
chance for me, after all, to get a place in the purser's office. I
thought by that he must mean that Nat Morton was out, but he isn't.
However, I'll leave it to Uncle Joe. He generally manages to get his
own way. I guess I'll take that fellow Nat down a few pegs before I
get through with him."
Sam had received a letter at his home in Chicago from his uncle, the
mate, telling him to meet the _Jessie Drew_ at Alpena. Sam had done
so, as we have seen, and was now established aboard the vessel. But he
was a little puzzled as to his uncle's plans.
Mr. Bumstead had said nothing further about providing a place for his
nephew where the lad might earn money, and this was what Sam wanted
more than anything else. He wanted an opening where there was not much
work, and he thought Nat's position just about filled the bill. He did
not know how hard our hero labored.
"Wait until I get in the purser's office," he mused as he puffed at
his cigarette. "I'll soon learn all there is to know, and then I'll
have my uncle see the captain and have me made purser. I don't like
Mr. Dunn. When I get his job I'll take things easy, and have a couple
of assistants to do the work. Maybe I'll let Nat be second assistant,"
he went on. "Won't I make him stand around, though!"
These thoughts were very pleasant to Sam Shaw. At heart he was a mean
youth, and he was lazy and inefficient, faults to which his uncle was,
unfortunately, blind. Mr. Bumstead thought Sam was a very fine boy.
In one of his trips about the deck, attending to his duties, Nat had
to pass close to Sam. He saw the red-haired lad smoking a cigarette,
and, knowing it was against the rules of the ship to smoke in that
part of it where Sam was, he said:
"You'd better throw that overboard before the captain sees you."
"Throw what overboard?" asked Sam in surly tones.
"That cigarette. It's against the rules to smoke 'em here."
"What do I care?" retorted Sam. "My uncle is the mate."
"That won't make any difference if Captain Marshall sees you."
"I'm not afraid of him. My uncle owns part of the ship. He could be
captain if he wanted to. I'll smoke wherever I please. Have one
yourself?" he added in a burst of generosity, for since he had had
his idea of becoming purser and having Nat for an assistant, Sam felt
in a little more tolerant mood toward our hero.
"No, thanks, I don't smoke."
"Afraid of being sick, I s'pose."
"No, it isn't that."
"Afraid the captain will see you and punish you, then?"
"Well, that's part of it. I used to smoke when I was about the docks,
but I found it didn't agree with me, so I gave it up. I like a
cigarette, but I believe they're bad for one's health. Besides, if I
did smoke, I wouldn't do it here. It's against the rules, I tell you,
and you'd better stop."
"Well, I'm not going to, and you can go and tell Captain Marshall if
you want to."
"I don't do things like that," replied Nat quietly, though he felt
like punching Sam for his sneering tone. "But I'm advising you for
your own good."
He turned away, and as he did so his coat, with an outside pocket
showing conveniently open, was close to Sam's hand. Then a daring and
mean scheme came into the mind of the red-haired youth.
"If I get into trouble, I'll make trouble for him, too," he thought,
and with a quick motion he dropped into Nat's pocket a partly-filled
box of cigarettes. "If he squeals on me I'll have something to tell
on him," he continued.
Hardly had he done this than he was startled by an angry voice
exclaiming:
"Throw that cigarette overboard! How dare you smoke on this deck?
Don't you know it's against the rules? Go below at once and I'll
attend to your case!"
Sam started guiltily, and turned to behold Captain Marshall glaring at
him and at the lighted cigarette which the youth still held between
his fingers. Nat, who had passed on only a few steps, turned likewise.
One look at the commander's face told him Captain Marshall was very
angry indeed.
"I told you that you'd better stop," Nat whispered to Sam.
"Aw, dry up!" was the ungracious retort. "I guess I can look out for
myself."
"Look here," went on the captain, striding up to Sam, "didn't you know
it was against the rules to smoke up here? I don't like cigarettes in
any part of the ship, least of all up on this deck. Didn't your uncle
tell you about it?"
"No--no, sir," replied Sam, who, in spite of his bravado, was startled
by the angry manner of the commander.
"And didn't any one tell you that it was forbidden here? Didn't you
tell him?" he asked, turning to Nat. "You've been here long enough to
know that rule."
"I did know it, sir," replied Nat respectfully, "and I told----"
"He didn't tell me!" burst out Sam quickly. "He didn't say anything
about it. In fact, Captain Marshall, he asked me to smoke here. He
gave me the cigarette!"
"What!" exclaimed Nat, astonished beyond measure. "I never----"
"Yes, you did!" went on Sam quickly. "You gave me a cigarette out of a
box you had in your pocket, I--I thought it was all right to smoke
when he gave it to me."
"Is this true?" demanded the captain sternly.
"No, sir!" exclaimed Nat. "I haven't any cigarettes, and if I had I
wouldn't give him any. I haven't smoked in over a year."
"He says you have a box in your pocket now," continued Captain
Marshall, remembering his suspicions about the fire in the hold.
"He's telling an untruth," replied Nat quietly. "I don't carry
cigarettes about with me. You can----"
"Then what's this?" asked the commander suddenly, as he stepped toward
Nat, and plunging his hand in the lad's pocket he pulled out the box
of cigarettes. The captain had seen a suspicious-looking bulge, and
had acted on what he considered his rights as a commander of a vessel
in searching one of his crew.
"Why--why----" stammered Nat. "I didn't know----"
"That's the box my cigarette came out of," said Sam, truthfully
enough.
"It isn't mine!" exclaimed Nat.
"Then what's it doing in your pocket?" inquired Captain Marshall.
"I don't know, unless Sam put it there," said Nat firmly.
"That's a likely story! I don't believe you."
"I never put it there," declared Sam stoutly. Telling an untruth meant
nothing to him.
"Then some one else, who wants to injure me, did it," declared Nat. "I
never use cigarettes--I haven't for over a year."
"This will be looked into," said the captain. "One of you lads is
telling an untruth, and I propose to find out who. When I do I shall
take action. Meanwhile I'll hold these cigarettes as evidence. Don't
let me catch either of you smoking again aboard this ship. As for
you," he added, turning to Nat, "you've been idle long enough. Get on
with your work."