Part 25 (2/2)
”We wanted to know if it's true that the skipper's on the sick-list, beggin' your pardon, Miss,” said the bos'n.
”He is down with an attack of malaria. Why?”
The men exchanged significant glances.
”Well, Miss,” went on the bos'n, fingering his dripping sou'-wester nervously, ”we thought we'd like to know who's in command while the skipper's laid up.”
”I am,” answered the girl without a moment's hesitation.
CHAPTER XX
IN COMMAND
For a moment the little group of men remained standing in the doorway, staring at the girl open-mouthed. Then abruptly and with one accord they left the cabin and she heard the tread of their heavy sea-boots going up the companion-way. Having given the steward directions concerning medicine and a supply of hot-water bottles so long as the patient remained in the cold stage of the fever, Dora Fletcher went up on deck.
The weather had moderated considerably, but night was coming on, and it was quite possible that the hurricane might spring up afresh. To her surprise, she found groups of men standing about the after-deck, though their presence in that part of the s.h.i.+p had been expressly forbidden by the Captain.
”What are you men doing here?” she demanded sharply.
They stared at her with sullen sheepishness, but no one answered.
”Get for'ard to your quarters at once and don't let me find a man aft of the bridge unless he has some duty to perform,” she went on after a pause.
But the men did not stir, and a low murmur, incoherent but menacing, reached the girl's ears. Suddenly the bos'n, who had been standing by, stepped up to her.
”It's like this 'ere, Miss,” he said, in a voice that was half-apologetic and half-defiant, ”we want to know where we are, we do.
The skipper's took with fever, the mate ain't 'ere, and the second's crippled. Who's going to navigate this packet back to Singapore and take the old man's place?”
”I have already told you that I am.”
”I know, Miss, but we didn't take it as you was serious.”
”Well, you can take it that I'm serious now.”
The bos'n s.h.i.+fted awkwardly from one foot to another, and glanced doubtfully at the sullen figures of the men.
”I'll tell them what you say, Miss,” he said at last, ”but I don't know how they'll take it. You see,” he went on hastily, ”maybe some of 'em aren't partial to taking orders from a woman, which don't seem natural, as you may say.”
”See here, bos'n,” answered the girl, raising her voice so that all could hear, ”can you, or any other man on board, navigate this s.h.i.+p to Singapore?”
”No, Miss, I can't say as any of us could.”
”Well, I can. I'm a practical navigator, and I will undertake to bring the _Hawk_ safely into port. But if there's a man among you who thinks he can do it, let him take command.”
”Of course that alters it a bit,” answered the bos'n thoughtfully, ”we didn't know you could navigate, Miss.”
”You don't suppose I should propose to take command otherwise?”
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