AT SEA.
Ned was not fit for duty during this day and the next.
Both his eyes were blackened, his cheek cut and swollen, and his face
blistered in several places.
After ministering to his necessities as well as possible, the cook
carried him into the forecastle, and there, alone, he had ample
opportunity to reflect upon what kind of a life he might be forced to
lead while it was necessary he should remain aboard the brig.
On the evening of the first day, the chief mate, Bob Stout, came below
to inquire how the boy felt, and before he had been in the ill-smelling
place five minutes Ned decided that he should like this officer, no
matter how brutal the others might be.
“Got knocked ’round pretty lively for a few minutes, eh?” the mate said
in a cheery tone as he seated himself on a chest by the side of Ned’s
bunk.
“Indeed I did, an’ all for nothin’. I was doin’ the best I knew when he
begun, an’ then how could I help tumblin’ the cook over when the captain
fired me at him?”
“You don’t want to bother your head about that, my lad. The least said
in such cases is the soonest mended. A boy at sea must learn to hold his
tongue.”
“Even when he’s gettin’ a floggin’ he don’t deserve?”
“Of course; that’s the very time when it’s most dangerous to talk.
You’ll soon get used to the captain’s ways.”
“It’ll take a mighty long while for me to get used to bein’ fired from
one end of the cabin to the other, an’ then on deck.”
“Wait three weeks, an’ see what you say about it. I went to sea as boy
with a master who was as liberal with his blows as Captain Bragg; but I
got in the habit of dodgin’ ’em before we’d been outside three days, an’
after that it was fairly smooth sailin’, except when he caught me
unawares.”
“But there’s no reason why I should stay on board. I’d rather starve
ashore than have the best of everything that’s on this craft.”
“The cook says he told you what risks you’d be takin’ by tryin’ to run
away.”
“So he did; but I won’t believe that man can keep me here if I don’t
want to stay.”
“He can, an’ all the cook said is true. The only thing left for you is
to make the best of it, an’ get along as easy a possible. Now cheer up,
an’ have some heart in you.”
With these words the mate left the forecastle, and Ned turned the advice
over in his mind until he came to the conclusion that it would be better
to act upon the friendly hints.
The result of this conversation was that on the following afternoon the
cabin-boy returned to duty by taking up the task which had been left
unfinished when the unprovoked attack was made upon him.
The captain entered shortly after the work was recommenced, but made no
comment whatever. He did not deign to so much as look at the little
fellow, and when the evening meal was served Ned succeeded in waiting
upon the table without a mishap.
After the third day came to an end the new cabin-boy felt quite well at
home. He had remembered the mate’s advice in the matter of dodging
blows, and on several occasions avoided what might otherwise have been
as serious as the first flogging.
Finally the time came when the Evening Star was ready for sea, and Ned
congratulated himself upon the fact, for, once under way, it was hardly
probable the captain would have a great deal of time to devote to him.
His first experience at sea was so much like what other fellows, who
have ventured upon the ocean for sport rather than from necessity, have
known, that there is no reason why it should be given in detail here.
The brig sailed out of the harbor in the early morning, and before
twelve o’clock poor Ned was in the forecastle believing his last hour
was very near at hand. It seemed to him that the sailors were a
particularly hard-hearted set of men to laugh and make sport of a dying
boy, for he was fully convinced he would not live until morning.
Death was not as near as he had fancied, however, although he did not
feel very much better at sunrise.
Then the mate came into the forecastle, and, after asking how he felt,
said:
“You had best come aft, lad. The room off the pantry is the proper bunk
for you, and once clear of this foul place you’ll get well a great deal
faster.”
“Where is the captain?”
“In his room. He hasn’t turned out yet, and you’ll have a chance to get
settled in the new quarters before he shows up.”
Ned was more than willing to make the proposed change. The odor, the
jokes of the sailors, as well as the fumes of tobacco smoke, were
decidedly trying to a weak stomach, and he managed to crawl from the
berth unaided, thanks to the promise of an improvement in the
surroundings.
Mr. Stout so far unbent from the dignity of a first officer as to assist
him across the deck and into the tiny room which was half-filled with
stores of various kinds; but, regardless of the limited accommodations,
Ned felt he was very fortunate in getting quarters where he could be
alone.
“I shall see that you show up to-morrow morning,” the mate said as he
turned to go. “I don’t reckon the captain will let you loaf any longer,
even though a sick waiter isn’t the most pleasant person one can have
around a table. The skipper of this craft don’t believe in keeping cats
that can’t catch mice.”
“Do you s’pose he’ll let me stay here as long as that?” Ned asked
piteously.
“I reckon so, for I shall make it out you’re worse off than really is
the case; so fix yourself as comfortable as possible, an’ I’ll see to it
that the cook brings you a bowl of soup before noon.”
“I couldn’t eat a mouthful.”
“Nonsense. You’ll be as ravenous as a bear by night, an’ I’ll answer for
it you can get away with quite a mess by the time it is ready.”
Ned felt certain he should never again want anything in the way of food;
but when, two hours later, the captain of the galley brought a bowlful
of liquid, steaming hot, which gave forth a most appetizing odor, he
succeeded in swallowing more than half of it, feeling very much better
immediately afterward.
By nightfall he had so far recovered that the nausea did not trouble
him, save when he attempted to rise to his feet, and he had no
difficulty in eating a large piece of meat and two ship’s biscuit, which
the good-natured mate gave him.
“I reckon you’re all right now, an’ shall turn you out bright an’ early
in the morning,” Mr. Stout said as Ned literally devoured the
provisions.
“Did the captain say anything because I was sick so long?”
“Yes, he got into a reg’lar mad fit; but I made it out that you wasn’t
able to come into the cabin in any decent shape, an’ he didn’t say any
more. The old man has been like an angel all day, an’ I can’t understand
the meanin’ of it. Anybody would say he was tryin’ to play me for some
kind of a favor; but of course that can’t be, now we’ve put to sea.”
It was destined Ned should know very soon what the “favor” was which
Captain Bragg wanted of the mate, although he little dreamed then that
it would cause him so much alarm.
From the time Mr. Stout left him until late in the night Ned slept
soundly, and then he was awakened by hearing the familiar voice of the
captain say in a loud tone just outside the door of his state-room:
“There’s no need of your bein’ on deck for the next half-hour, Mr.
Stout, so let’s go into the pantry for some grog. That lazy steward
hasn’t left any in the cabin.”
“I’ll bring it to you there, sir, if you’ll wait a minute.”
“There’s no occasion for it. We can go in here as well, and there’ll be
less chance any one overhears us while we’re talking.”
Ned heard the door of the pantry opened, and then it was as if the
captain had entered the boy’s room, so far as the latter’s ability to
hear all that might be said was concerned.
The partition between the two apartments was composed of only one
thickness of thin boards, and a whisper would have sounded distinct in
the confined space.
“It seems rather odd to see the captain of a craft like this huntin’ his
own lunch,” Mr. Stout said laughingly.
“I’d rather do it just now while the second officer is in his room, for
I’ve got something private to say to you which wouldn’t be safe even in
the cabin.”
There was a few moments of silence, and then the mate said, as if about
to partake of some liquor:
“Here’s to your health, sir.”
“Same to you,” was the reply; and then it was possible for Ned to hear
the sound as the glasses were replaced on the shelves.
“Mr. Stout,” the captain began in a serious tone, “I believe you are not
a rich man.”
“There’s no question about that, sir, for I’m even poorer than a
churchmouse.”
“How would you like a chance to make a thousand dollars or more of extra
money this trip?”
“There’s precious little need of my answerin’ such a question, sir. I
never had a thousand dollars at one time in my life.”
“What would you be willing to do in order to get that much within the
next two months?”
“Without stealin’ it, do you mean, sir?”
“It isn’t likely I’d ask you to turn thief; but if this craft never
reached Manila there might be more than that in your pocket.”
“Do you mean to wreck her?” Mr. Stout cried as if in alarm.
“Hush! Don’t make such talk so loud that everybody on board can hear
you.”
“It strikes me there are worse things than stealing,” the mate said
slowly.
“But this isn’t one of them. The brig is insured way up on what ain’t in
the hold, and suppose she founders off the Florida Keys, who is going to
be any the wiser? There’s no need that even the men should know,
providing you and I work together, and we can take to the boats without
a smell of danger.”
“It is a clear case of cheating somebody, even though we don’t risk the
lives of the crew.”
“Nonsense! Every cent will come from the rich insurance companies, and
you can’t say that is wronging any one in particular. What would be the
difference to a stock company which rolls up thousands of dollars in
profits every year, if they had to pay an extra risk or two? It’s such a
chance for us as a man seldom gets in this world, and we’ll take it if
you say the word.”
There was quite a long interval of silence, and then Ned heard Mr. Stout
ask:
“Have you made your preparations for scuttling her?”
“No, there wasn’t need of that until you and I had come to an
understanding; and even then we don’t want to do anything until we’re
off the Keys where there’ll be no very great tumbling around in the
boats.”
“How is it to be done?”
“We’ll scuttle her from the stern. I’ve seen to it the cargo was stowed
in such a manner that we can get down to her skin without any trouble.
It might be a slight explosion in the forward hold—not enough to do any
damage, but sufficient to start the men into a panic—would work to our
advantage.”
“I don’t like it,” the chief mate said in the tone of one who is willing
to be convinced; “but there’s a pleasant ring to a thousand dollars.”
“Of course there is, and your share will be even more than that.”
“It isn’t so easy to scuttle a craft as one might think, and when the
job was done if some of the crew should happen to be suspicious, we’d
stand a good chance of takin’ a trip to prison.”
“If anything like that should happen at the last minute it would be
unlucky for the man who saw us, or thought we were up to mischief. He
shouldn’t leave this craft alive. I’d rather send the whole crew to the
bottom than run a risk of being caught at such a job. But take another
drink Stout, an’ think over this matter till morning. There’s plenty of
time to discuss it, for we’ve got at least four days before us, if not a
week.”
Then the conversation ceased as the captain left the pantry, and Ned
heard the mate, who had remained behind an instant, mutter to himself:
“I knew the old man was up to something, or he wouldn’t have been so
sweet for the last twenty-four hours. It’s a big scheme he’s got, an’ I
don’t see why it couldn’t be worked without trouble. A thousand dollars
is a pile of money to a man who never had any more than I’ve got.”
This was sufficient to show Ned that the chief officer would not
hesitate to assist in wrecking the brig, provided it could be done
without taking too big a risk, and the boy began to wonder what would
become of him if the crime was finally committed.
The captain had said that if any one on board had a suspicion the brig
was deliberately scuttled, such person should never leave the craft
alive.
Now Ned was in the possession of the secret, and in case the captain
discovered that his words could be heard so plainly from one apartment
to the other, it was only reasonable to suppose he would carry his
threat into execution, more especially when it was a person of so little
importance as a cabin-boy without a relative in the world.
“I don’t believe Mr. Stout would do such a thing to me,” Ned said to
himself; “but I’ll talk with him about it the first chance I get.”
It was impossible for Ned to sleep any more on this night, and next
morning there was no reason why the chief mate should awaken him, for he
was at work in the cabin as soon as the first gray light of the coming
dawn could be seen.
“Feelin’ better, eh?” Mr. Stout asked as he came below while Ned was
placing the dishes on the table preparatory to serving breakfast.
“Yes, sir, an’ I’ll be able to do my work now if I don’t get taken
again.”
“There isn’t much chance of that. You’ve served an apprenticeship, and
won’t have any more trouble this voyage.”
Then the mate went into the pantry for some of the same liquid which had
played an important part in the conversation during the previous night,
for it is as strange as it is true that as soon as a man contemplates
villainy of almost any kind, he invariably flies for courage and
consolation to liquor.
Ned made up his mind to speak with the mate that very morning in
reference to what he had heard; but the opportunity was denied him.
Before the first officer returned from the pantry the captain came out
of his room, and the two spent considerable time at the forward end of
the cabin conversing in whispers.
Then breakfast was served, after which Mr. Stout went to his apartment,
and there was so much work for the cabin-boy to do that he had not
finished when it was time to prepare for dinner.
The captain was in such a good humor during the noon-day meal that Ned
was not even reprimanded when he tripped over a chair and spilled a
portion of a cup of coffee, and after dinner the master and his mate
went into the pantry once more.
The cabin-boy was tempted to enter his own room in order to hear what
was said, for most likely the mate was giving an answer to the question
asked; but the risk of being detected was so great that he did not
venture on any such hazardous experiment.
No until his work in the cabin was finished did the two emerge from
their conference, and then it was apparent that Mr. Stout had agreed to
join the captain in the commission of the crime. The master of the
Evening Star was evidently on the best of terms with his mate, and the
two showed very plainly that they had a secret in common.
“If I don’t talk with Mr. Stout pretty soon he’ll be jest as bad as the
captain,” Ned said to himself as he noted the change which had come over
the mate during the past few hours. “I’ll watch my chance to-night after
the old man has turned in, for if this thing is to be done inside of a
week the best way is to get ready for the worst right soon.”
The captain did not interfere with the new boy on this day, and had it
not been for the short but sharp experience before putting to sea, Ned
would have believed he was sailing under one of the most amiable men to
be found in the world.
When night came the cabin-boy finished his tasks as quickly as possible
and then went on deck, where he remained by the rail amidships until
after the first officer had had another interview with the captain in
the pantry.
“What are you doing out here?” Mr. Stout asked as he came on deck, and
since he knew the officer was willing to commit a crime, Ned fancied his
voice had lost that cheery ring which pleased him so much when he first
heard it. “Ain’t gettin’ homesick, are you?”
“How can a feller feel like that when he hasn’t got any home to go to?”
Ned asked with a mirthless laugh. “All the same, I wish I was on shore.”
“Why? You seem to be gettin’ along well enough here.”
“I am so far as the work goes; but there’s more that’s worryin’ me.”
“What is it, lad? You’re too young to have very big troubles.”
“If you’d promise me somethin’ I’d feel a good deal better.”
“Then out with it, for a boy like you don’t want to keep anything very
serious on his mind too long at a time.”
Ned looked around to make certain there was no one in the immediate
vicinity who could overhear him, and whispered:
“Will you promise that I shan’t be left behind when you sink the brig?”
Mr. Stout started as if having received a heavy blow from a weapon, and
an instant later grasped Ned by the arm with sufficient force to cause
considerable pain, as he asked in a hoarse whisper:
“What do you mean by that, lad? Where did you learn anything of the
kind?”
“You was talkin’ in the pantry, an’ I could hear every word while I was
sick in my room.”
“Come here! Let’s find out jest how easy that can be done,” and in his
excitement the chief mate dragged Ned roughly into the pantry. “Now you
speak here, while I go where you was.”
An instant later the boy heard him say from the opposite side of the
partition:
“Now go ahead, an’ talk low.”
“You can hear me if I whisper,” Ned replied, suiting the action to the
words.
An exclamation of surprise and dismay told that the mate was convinced
of the truth of the story related by Ned.
Coming into the pantry once more he said sternly:
“Now I want you to go over everything you heard us say! Don’t skip a
single word more’n you can help, for this is gettin’ to be a serious
matter.”
Wondering why Mr. Stout should have allowed himself to become so
excited, the boy obeyed, saying in conclusion:
“You won’t let the captain leave me behind, will you, Mr. Stout? You
know he threatened that was what he’d do to any one who had a suspicion
the brig was sunk by him, an’ I’m afraid he may find out I could hear
all you said.”
The mate looked at the boy very oddly for a few seconds, and then
replied in a voice which trembled despite all his efforts to make it
sound firm:
“I’ll see you’re not left here in case she is scuttled; but I reckon the
best thing we can do now will be to give up that job, since there’s
another besides ourselves who knows about it.”
“Who do you mean?”
“You, of course,” and the mate spoke as if in a rage.
“But you know I wouldn’t tell.”
“No, we must take good care of that,” and to steady his shaken nerves
the mate had recourse to the liquor bottle, pouring out for himself a
dram which very nearly filled the glass.
“You see I thought it was best to speak to you about it the first chance
for if it is to be done so soon I might wait too long,” Ned continued,
little fancying what thoughts were in the mate’s mind.
“That is right, lad. I’m glad you did, an’ now we’d better go on deck.
See to it that you don’t stay up too late to-night, for you must be on
hand bright an’ early in the mornin’ to have things ready for
breakfast.”
“I’m goin’ to my room now. I only went on deck to speak with you.”
“All right; but be sure you don’t get to talkin’ with anybody else about
what you heard, or there might come a row which wouldn’t be pleasant.”
“There’s no danger of that,” Ned replied cheerily, perfectly contented
in mind since having spoken on the subject to the man whom he felt
certain was his friend.
Mr. Stout was so attentive as to go with the boy to the door of his
room, and when Ned was inside, the mate turned the key without the
knowledge of the young occupant.
Then Mr. Stout visited the pantry once more, poured out another glass of
liquor for the purpose of steadying his nerves, and muttered to himself
as he went on deck:
“The skipper must hear of this before morning. It won’t do to let that
kid run around the craft with such a secret as he has got; but the
question is how we can put him out of the way?”