BOUND HOME.
"My friend and I have lost our situations through a joke," he
exclaimed, "and we want to leave this country. Will you take us along
with you?"
"Now you're talking, sonny," answered Boston Charley. "This ship is
going to San Francisco, and if you want the straight tip, as these
Londoners say, we don't have any use for boys aboard."
Tommy's countenance fell at this declaration.
"Couldn't you make room for us, sir?" he asked.
"In consideration of your being a fellow citizen, I'll chance it,"
answered the officer. "The cap and I are pretty good friends, and I
guess I can fix it for you to-morrow. Meanwhile you can go aboard and
bunk in the fo'castle to-night."
Boston Charley nodded kindly to them, and walked away, whistling a
popular air.
"I say, boy," cried Tommy, "we're in luck."
"That's what I'm thinking," answered Bobsey; "and I'll tell you where
that cove's head was solid. He's going to enjoy himself, and vy
shouldn't ve do the same thing? Let's go on a jolly good racket, our
two selves, and ven ve're on the briny ocean we shall have nothing to
reproach ourselves with."
"I don't care," replied Tommy.
They found out a coffee shop, where they enjoyed a cheap supper, after
which they went to the gallery of a theater, at which a drama was
played representing the trials and temptations which beset Jack ashore.
Much delighted with their evening's entertainment, at midnight they
reached home--that is to say, the ship; but the watch wouldn't
admit them on board, and they had to sleep on the ground among some
merchandise.
It was late in the morning when Boston Charley made his appearance. A
few words informed him of the state of the case, and he took the boys
on board the ship, where a few words spoken to the captain insured them
a passage to California.
The captain was a tall, swarthy Spaniard of the name of Diaz, and
Boston Charley gave the boys a little advice respecting their behavior
to him.
"Lads," he said, in an undertone, "our skipper's ugly when he drinks.
Don't you never sass him, because he'd as lief take a knife to you as
use his fist, and I don't suppose you want to slip your cable just yet."
"Not much," answered Tommy.
At two o'clock the tide swerved, and the ship started on her voyage.
Capt. Diaz did not behave badly until the third week of the voyage,
when it was evident from his flushed countenance that he had been
indulging in intoxicating liquors. He would walk sullenly up and down
the deck, with a rattan in his hand, giving orders one minute and
contradicting them the next.
Bobsey was one morning engaged in coiling a rope, which he didn't do
with the neatness and regularity which he should have observed.
"Boy," said Capt. Diaz, "do that over again, or I'll lay it over your
back."
Bobsey looked up angrily at him.
"I'm doing it as well as I know how," he replied.
"Don't answer me!" shouted the captain, whose object seemed to be to
pick a quarrel with some one.
"If you don't want to be answered," said the boy, "what did you speak
to me for?"
"You confounded young whelp, I'll cut the heart out of you!" said the
captain, raising his rattan.
The next moment it descended sharply on the boy's shoulders.
Bobsey was no coward, and big as the captain was, he did not hesitate
to tackle him.
Dropping on his knees, he seized his leg with his teeth like a dog, and
bit him severely on the calf.
The captain roared with pain.
Finding the boy did not let loose, he drew his knife, as Boston Charley
had said he would, and made a lunge at Bobsey.
It took effect between the shoulders, causing him to relinquish his
hold and fall back on the deck bleeding profusely.
This scuffle had been watched by some of the sailors, who cried
"Shame!" but knowing the desperate character of the captain, they did
not dare to interfere on the boy's behalf.
Boston Charley was below, as was Tommy, and the first intimation they
had of the captain's attack was given them by a sailor who cried down
the hatch:
"Hurry up! The skipper's stabbed a boy!"
"By thunder! it'll be bad for him if he has!" cried Boston Charley.
He and Tommy hastened on deck, and were just in time to see Capt. Diaz
take up the form of Bobsey, hold it a second in the air, and then cast
it into the sea, as if it had been a log of wood.
Tommy did not hesitate a moment.
With the utmost bravery he precipitated himself into the sea and struck
out bravely to rescue his friend.
He could not tell whether he was seriously injured or not.
He might be mortally wounded; and again he might only be slightly hurt;
at all events, he was determined to do all in his power for him.
Boston Charley here took it upon himself to do the best he could in
the crisis for the safety of the boys, as Capt. Diaz did not raise his
voice in their behalf. In a clear, ringing voice the first officer
ordered the helm down and the sails to be lowered, while he threw over
the side a couple of hencoops. In a short time the ship's course was
altered, and Tommy, who had caught hold of Bobsey's right arm, was
under the lee gangway.
"Lower a boat there," commanded the officer. "Lower away lively, my
lads."
"_Carambo!_" cried the captain, rousing himself at last, "who is
commander here?"
"When you so far forget yourself as you have done," replied Boston
Charley, eying him sternly, "it becomes the duty of every man in the
ship to let you know that they no longer regard you as their captain."
"You mutinous Yankee dog!" screamed the captain, hoarse with passion.
"Capt. Diaz," answered the officer, "I want you to know that an
American is as good as a Spaniard, and though you are part owner of
this vessel, I don't give a snap of the finger for you."
The captain brandished the knife threateningly.
"Put up that skewer," said the mate, contemptuously. "I'm not a boy."
The only reply which Diaz made to this defiant and somewhat irritating
speech was to aim a blow at the speaker.
But Boston Charley, with the rapidity of lightning, drew a pistol from
his pocket and sent a bullet through the fleshy part of the captain's
right arm.
The knife fell from his grasp, and the injured limb hung uselessly by
his side, while its owner reeled against the mast.
"I'll have a terrible revenge for this!" hissed the captain between his
teeth.
Boston Charley paid no further attention to him.
The boat had been lowered, and while the altercation was going on the
sailors had picked up both Tommy and the wounded boy.
They were just in time, for Tommy was nearly exhausted.
When Bobsey was laid on the deck Tommy bent over him, peering curiously
into his face.
The mate took him by the arm and led him away, as his experienced eye
told him that the lad was dead.
"Oh! don't take me away!" cried Tommy. "He is the only friend I've got."
The mate pointed with his finger to the sky.
"He has a Friend up aloft, sonny, and that's the only one he will want
now," he said.
Capt. Diaz had remained in a motionless condition for more than five
minutes, but his eyes watched the movements of Boston Charley with the
restlessness of a lynx.
All at once he stooped down and picked up the knife which had dropped
from his hand when the mate shot him.
He held it in his left hand, and with a demoniac yell he rushed upon
Boston Charley.
"Look out!" cried Tommy, who, seeing that Charley had his back turned
to the enemy, feared he would be assassinated.
Turning sharply around, the mate did not hesitate a moment in drawing
out his pistol.
He had not a second to lose. In fact, so sudden was the captain's
attack upon him, that he had not time to take aim, so he fired at
random, and Capt. Diaz fell, mortally wounded, by the side of the boy
whom, in a moment of passion, he had so foully murdered a short time
before.
The crew, who had watched this series of events in surprise and horror,
now ran aft.
"Boys," cried Boston Charley, "I call you all to witness that I did
this in self-defense."
The men showed the feeling they had in the matter by seizing the body
of the captain and casting it overboard with as little concern as he
had shown in disposing of the boy Bobsey.
Boston Charley now took command of the ship, and was obeyed by the men
as if he was entitled to the position.
Tommy's life was now made much easier, for he only had to wait on the
new captain.
"A penny for your thoughts, my boy," exclaimed the captain one day, as
he noticed Tommy in a melancholy mood.
"You shall have them for nothing, sir," replied Tommy. "I was wondering
how I could find out my folks."
"Tell you what, Tommy," said the captain, "when we reach 'Frisco I'll
take all the money that's coming to me, and we'll start for Nevada
together."
"You and I, sir?" asked Tommy, with great joy at the prospect of having
such a good traveling companion.
"Yes; I guess there is more money in mining than seafaring, and I'll
try my luck."
Boston Charley did not waver in his resolution. When the ship reached
San Francisco, and the crew were paid off by the owner, he, with Tommy,
started at once for Nevada.
He had taken quite a fancy to Tommy, and treated him with as much care
and attention as a father would bestow on a son.