When we rowed back to the ship, Trunnell was looking at us through the
glass up to the time we came under the _Pirate's_ counter. He evidently
could see that our skipper wasn't with us, and it seemed as if he could
not quite make up his mind to the fact, but must keep looking through the
telescope as though the powerful glass would bring the missing one into
view. We ran up to the channels, and he looked over the side. A line of
heads in the waist told of the curiosity among the men forward.
I said nothing, and nothing was said until the painter was made fast and
Ford had sprung on deck.
"He ain't with ye, Rolling?" asked Trunnell.
I was too much disgusted to answer. The empty boat was enough to satisfy
any reasonable person.
Chips came to the rail and leaned over as I came up the chain-plates.
"'Twas so, then? Th' raskil! But what makes th' bloody hooker move? She's
slantin' away as if th' devil himself ware holdin' av her fore foot!"
"Steam, you poor idiots," I cried out, in disgust, for it was evident
that even Trunnell couldn't tell what made the _Shark_ get headway,
although now the smoke poured handsomely from her masthead.
Trunnell scratched his bushy head and seemed to be thinking deeply. Then
he put down the glasses and led the way aft without a word, Chips and I
following. We went below and found Mrs. Sackett and Jennie in the saloon.
"Where's the captain?" they asked in a breath.
"Faith, an' he's changed ships, if ye please," said Chips.
"And left a little thing behind he would have liked to have taken with
him," I said.
"What was the matter?" they both asked.
Chips and I tried to tell, but we soon made a tangle of it, the only
thing coherent being the fact that the fellow was a crook and had left
his trunk behind. This was so heavy that Chips had failed to lift it.
"I always knew he was not a sea-captain," cried Jennie. "I don't see how
you men let him fool you so badly."
Chips and I looked at the mate, but he simply scratched his head.
"Discipline is discipline," he said. "He ware capting o' this here ship,
an' there ware no way to do but obey his orders. No, sir, discipline is
discipline, an' the sooner ye get it through your heads, the better."
"But he isn't captain any longer," I said.
"Well, I don't know about that," said Trunnell. "If he ain't a-comin'
back, he ain't capting, sure. But ye can't tell nothin' about it. He may
come aboard agin in a little while an' want to know why we didn't wait
dinner for him."
"He sho' would take his trunk," said Gunning, "an' dat's a fact."
"Why would he?" asked Mrs. Sackett.
"'Cause he take good care o' dat trunk, ma'm. He sleep wid one eye on it
an' his gun handy. I come near gettin' killed onct when I come into de
cabin, suddin' like, while he was at work ober de things inside."
"For Heaven's sake, let's look at it," said Mrs. Sackett.
"'Tis th' best thing we cud do," said Chips. "'Tis no less than solid
gold he stowed in it. Faith, it's as heavy as th' main yard."
Mrs. Sackett led the way to the captain's room, and Trunnell made no
farther resistance. She opened the door, and we crowded inside. There lay
the trunk on the floor or deck ahead of us.
"Try yer hand at th' liftin' av th' thing," said Chips to me.
I reached down and took hold of the handle at the side. Pulling heavily,
I lifted with all my power. The trunk remained stationary.
"Dere's nothin' but gold in dat thing, sho'," said Gunning.
"Well, for Heaven's sake! why don't some one open it?" cried Jennie.
"An' have him a-comin' back aboard, a-wantin' to know who had been at it,
hey?" said Trunnell. "I didn't think ye ware that kind o' missy."
"Nonsense!" I said. "He isn't coming back. Even if he is, it won't hurt
to lift it, will it?"
"No, I don't know as it will, only it might upset them charts,"
said Trunnell.
"Try it," I said. "See if it's gold. It'll clink when you shake
it, sure."
The little giant stooped and gave a grunt of disdain. "I reckon there
ain't nothin' that size I can't lift," said he, in a superior tone, which
was not lost on the women. Trunnell seldom bragged, and we crowded
around, looking for quick results.
"A little bit o' trunk a-breakin' the backs o' a pair o' fellows as has
the impudence to say they are men an' question the discipline o' the
ship!" he said, with a loud grunt of disgust. "Stan' clear an' let a man
have a chanst. If it's gold, an' ye're right, it'll rattle an' jingle
fast enough; an' I hopes then ye'll be satisfied."
He took a strong hold of the leather handle at the side and braced his
little legs wide apart. It was evident he would put forth some power.
Then he set the great muscles of his broad back slowly, like a dray horse
testing the load before putting forth his strength. Slowly and surely the
little mate's back raised. He grew red in the face, and we peered over
the treasure, hoping it would rise and give forth the welcome jingle.
Suddenly there was a ripping sound. Trunnell straightened up quickly,
staggered for an instant, and then pitched forward over the trunk,
uttering a fierce oath.
Mrs. Sackett screamed. Jennie burst into a wild fit of laughter. Chips
and Gunning stood staring with open mouths and eyes, while Trunnell
picked himself up, with the trunk handle in his iron fist.
"Faith, an' ye are a good strong man," said the carpenter. "Ye'd make a
fortune as a porter a-liftin' trunks at a hotel."
"He can lift a little thing like that," said Jennie, mimicking the mate's
tone to perfection.
Trunnell was now thoroughly mad. If the trunk contained gold, he would
soon find out.
"Bring yer tools, an' don't stan' laffin' like a loon, ye bloody
Irishman," he said to Chips, and the carpenter disappeared quickly. He
returned in a moment with a brace and bit, a cold chisel, and a hammer.
"Knock off the top," said Trunnell.
"Discipline is discipline," whispered Jennie; "and I don't want to be
around if the captain comes back."
Trunnell was too angry to pay attention to this remark, so he looked
sourly on while the carpenter cut off the rivets holding the lock.
"There ye are," he said, and we crowded around to look in while the mate
raised the lid.
Off it came easily enough. We stood perfectly silent for an instant. Then
all except Trunnell burst out laughing. The trunk was empty!
"Well, sink me down deep, but that ware the heaviest air I ever see,"
said Trunnell. Then he picked up a slip of paper in the bottom and looked
at it a moment. It had writing on it, and he unfolded it to read. I
looked over his shoulder and read aloud:--
"MY DEAR LITTLE MATE: When you get this here billee ducks, don't do
anything rash. Remember the discipline of the ship, first of all, and
then take the dollar bill here and get somebody to cut your hair fer ye,
as it's too loing fer a man of sense and is disagreeable to the ladies.
If ye thought ye had a pot of gold in this here outfit, ye get left,
sure, and no mistake. Remember money's the root of all evil and thank yer
Lord ye ain't got none. There ain't no answer to this note; but if ye
feel like writing at enny time, address it to Bill Jackwell, care of
anybody at all what happens to be around at the time I'm there--see?
Some day we'll meet agin, fer I'm stuck on the sea and am going to buy a
boat and appoint ye as captain, only yer must cut yer hair and trim up
yer beard some. That's all."
Trunnell held the dollar bill he had unfurled from the note in his hand
and dropped the note back into the trunk.
"'Tis screwed fast wid nine big bolts to th' deck," said Chips, who had
examined the outfit carefully.
Trunnell scratched his bushy head thoughtfully for a moment longer. "Is
there any sech thing as a few men aboard this ship?" he asked.