PREPARING TO BE A SAILOR
During the conversation just recorded the boys by no means neglected
their luncheon, for both of them had been very hungry, and by the time
they arrived at an understanding in regard to Alaric's engagement not a
crumb of food nor a drop of milk was left before them. While to Bonny
Brooks this had proved a most welcome and enjoyable repast, to Alaric it
marked a most important era of his life. To begin with, it was the first
meal he had ever paid for out of his own pocket, and this alone was
sufficient to give it a flavor that he had never discovered in the rich
food by which his appetite had heretofore been tempted.
Then during this simple meal he had entered upon his first friendship
with a boy of his own age, for the liking that he had already taken for
Bonny Brooks was evidently returned. Above all, during that brief
lunch-hour he had conducted his first independent business operation,
and now found himself engaged to fill a responsible position in active
life. To be sure, he was only taken on trial, but if good intentions and
a determination to do his very best could command success, then was his
position assured. How fortunate he was, after all! An opening, a chance
to prove what he could do, was all that he had wanted, and behold! it
was his within the first hour of his independent life. How queer that it
had come through his baseball too, and how strangely one thing seemed
to lead to another!
Now Alaric was impatient for a sight of the vessel that was to be the
scene of his future labors, and anxious to begin them. He had so little
idea of what a sloop was that he even wondered if it would be propelled
by sails or steam. He was inclined to think that it must be the latter,
for Bonny had spoken of his craft as carrying passengers, and Alaric had
never known any passenger boats except such as were driven by steam. So
he pictured the _Fancy_ as a steamer, not so large as the _Empress_, of
course, but fairly good-sized, manned by engineers, stokers, stewards,
and a crew of sailors. With this image in his mind, he regarded his
companion as one who had indeed attained a lofty position.
So busy was our hero with these thoughts that for a full minute after
the lads left the bake-shop he did not utter a word. Bonny Brooks was
also occupied with a line of thought that caused him to glance
reflectively at his companion several times before he spoke. Finally he
broke out with:
"I say, Rick Dale, I don't know about shipping you for a sailor, after
all. You see, you are dressed altogether too fine. Any one would take
you for the captain or maybe the owner if you were to go aboard in those
togs."
"Would they?" asked Alaric, gazing dubiously down at his low-cut
patent-leather shoes, black silk socks, and light trousers accurately
creased and unbagged at the knees. Besides these he wore a vest and
sack-coat of fine black serge, an immaculate collar, about which was
knotted a silk neck-scarf, and a narrow-striped cheviot shirt, the cuffs
of which were fastened by gold sleeve-links. Across the front of his
vest, from pocket to pocket, extended a slender chain of twisted gold
and platinum, at one end of which was his watch, and at the other a gold
and platinum pencil-case.
"Yes, they would," answered Bonny, with decision; "and you've got to
make a change somehow, or else our bargain must be called off, for you
could never become a sailor in that rig."
Here was a difficulty on which Alaric had not counted, and it filled him
with dismay. "Couldn't I change suits with you?" he asked, anxiously. "I
shouldn't think mine would be too fine for a first mate."
"Not if I know it," laughed Bonny. "They'd fit me too much one way and
not enough another. Besides, they are shore togs any way you look at
'em, and not at all the things to go to sea in. The cap'n would have a
fit if you should go aboard dressed as you are. So if you want to ship
with us, I'm afraid you'll have to buy a new outfit."
"But I haven't any money, and you say they won't charge things in this
town."
"Of course they won't if they don't know you; but you might spout your
ticker, and make a raise that way."
"Might what?"
"Shove up your watch. Leave it with your uncle, you know, until you
earned enough to buy it back."
"Do you mean sell it?"
"No. They'd ask too many questions if you tried to sell it, and wouldn't
give much more, anyway. I mean pawn it."
"All right," replied Alaric. "I'm willing, only I don't know how."
"Oh, I'll show you quick enough, if you really want to do it."
As Alaric insisted that he was willing to do almost anything to procure
that coveted sailor's outfit, Bonny led him to a mean-looking shop,
above the door of which hung three golden balls. The dingy windows were
filled with a dusty miscellany of watches, pistols, and all sorts of
personal property, while the opening of the door set loose a musty odor
of old clothing. As this came pouring forth Alaric instinctively drew
back in disgust; but with a sudden thought that he could not afford to
be too fastidious in the new life he had chosen, he conquered his
repugnance to the place and followed Bonny inside.
A gaunt old Hebrew in a soiled dressing-gown stood behind a small
counter. As Alaric glanced at him hesitatingly, Bonny opened their
business by saying, briskly:
"Hello, uncle! How are you to-day? My friend here wants to make a raise
on his watch."
"Let's see dot vatch," replied Mr. Isaacs, and Alaric handed it to him,
together with the chain and pencil-case. It was a fine Swiss
chronometer, with the monogram A.D.T. engraved on its back; and as the
pawnbroker tested the quality of its case and peered at the works,
Alaric noted his deliberate movements with nervous anxiety. Finally the
man said:
"I gifs you den tollars on dot vatch mit der chain und pencil trown in."
Alaric would have accepted this offer at once, but Bonny knew better.
"Ten nothings!" he said. "You'll give us fifty dollars, uncle, or we'll
take it down to Levi's."
"Feefty tollar! So hellup me grashus! I vould be alretty bankrupted of I
gif feefty tollars on effery vatch. Vat you dake me for?"
"Take you for an old fraud," replied the unabashed first mate of the
_Fancy_. "Of course you would be bankrupted, as you ought to have been
long ago, if you gave fifty dollars on every turnip that is brought in;
but you could well afford to advance a hundred on this watch, and you
know it."
"Veil, I tell you; I gifs t'venty-fife."
[Illustration: "'VELL, I TELL YOU. I GIFS YOU TVENTY-FIFE'"]
"Fifty," said Bonny, firmly.
"Dirty, und nod von cend more, so hellup me."
"Fifty."
"Dirty-fife?"
"We'll split the difference, and call it forty-five."
"I gifs you fordy oud of charidy, seeing you is so hart up."
"It's a bargain," cried Bonny. "Hand over your cash."
"How could you talk to him that way?" asked Alaric, admiringly, as the
boys left the shop, he minus his watch and chain, but with forty dollars
and a pawn-ticket in his pocket.
"I couldn't once," laughed Bonny; "but it's one of the things poor folks
have to learn. If you are willing to let people impose on you they'll be
mighty quick to do it, and the only way is to bluff 'em from the start."
The next place they entered was a sailor's slop-shop, in which were kept
all sorts of seafaring garments and accessories. Here, advised by Bonny,
Alaric invested fourteen dollars and seventy-five cents in a blue knit
jersey, or sweater, a pair of stout woollen trousers, two flannel
shirts, two suits of heavy underclothing, several pairs of cotton socks,
and a pair of canvas shoes.
Expressing a desire to make a change of clothing at once, he was shown a
retired corner where he might do so, and from which he emerged a few
minutes later so altered in appearance that it is doubtful if his own
father would have recognized him.
"That's something like it!" cried Bonny.
"Isn't it?" replied Alaric, surveying himself with great satisfaction in
a mirror, and fully convinced that he now looked so like a sailor that
no one could possibly mistake him for anything else. "Don't you think,
though, that I ought to have the name of the sloop embroidered across
the front of this sweater? All the sailors I have ever seen had theirs
fixed that way."
"I suppose it would be a good idea," replied Bonny, soberly, though
filled with inward laughter at the suggestion. "But perhaps you'd better
wait until you see if the ship suits you, and whether you stay with us
or not."
"Oh, I'll stay," asserted Alaric. "There's no fear but what I will, if
you'll only keep me."
"Going yachting, sir?" asked the shopkeeper, politely, as he carefully
folded Alaric's discarded suit of fine clothing.
"No, indeed," replied the boy, scornfully; "I'm going to be a sailor on
the sloop _Fancy_, and I wish you would send those things down to her at
once."
Ere the man could recover from his astonishment at this request
sufficiently to make reply, Bonny interrupted, hastily:
"Oh no, Rick! we'll take them with us. There isn't time to have 'em
sent."
"I should guess not," remarked the shopkeeper, in a very different tone
from the one he had used before. "But say, young feller, if you're going
to be a sailor you'll want a bag, and I've got a second-hand one here
almost as good as new that I'll sell cheap. It come to me with a lot of
truck from the sale of a confiscated sealer; and seeing that it's got
another chap's name painted on it, I'll let you have it for one bob
tuppence-ha'penny, and that'll make even money between us."
Thus saying, the man produced a stout canvas bag, such as a sailor uses
in place of a trunk. The name plainly painted across it, in black
letters, was "Philip Ryder", but Alaric said he didn't mind that, so he
took the bag, thrust his belongings, including his cherished baseball,
into it, and the two boys left the shop.
"By-the-way," asked Alaric, hesitatingly, "don't I need to get some
brushes and things?"
"What for?"
"Why, to brush my hair, and--"
"Oh no," interrupted the other. "There's a comb on board, and, besides,
we can't stop for anything more. I've been gone so long now that I
expect the old man is madder'n a wet hen by this time."
So Bonny led the way to the wharves, and to a narrow slip between two of
them that just then was occupied by but a single craft. She was a small
sloop, not over forty feet long, though of good beam, evidently very
old, and so dingy that it was hard to believe she had ever been painted.
Her sails, hanging unfurled in lazy jacks, were patched and discolored;
her running rigging was spliced, the standing rigging was sadly in need
of setting up, her iron-work was rusted, and her spars were gray with
age.
"There's the old packet," said Bonny, cheerfully.
"Where?" asked Alaric, gazing vaguely down the slip and utterly ignoring
the disreputable craft close at hand.
"Why, right here," answered the other, a trifle impatiently. "Don't you
see the name '_F-A-N-C-Y_' on her stern? She isn't much to look at, I
know, but she's a hummer to go, and a mighty good sea-boat. She's
awfully comfortable, too. Come aboard and I'll show you."
With this the cheery young fellow, who had actually come to a belief
that the shabby old craft was all he claimed for her, tossed his
friend's recent purchase to the deck of the sloop, and began to clamber
after it down a rickety ladder.
With all his bright visions of a minute before rudely dispelled, and
with a heart so heavy that he could find no words to express his
feelings, Alaric followed him.