Part 21 (1/2)

”Well, all I seen was three swabs that said they was from the Sailor boardin' house, chuck you aboard about two bells,” replied the mate, indifferently, as he straightened himself up.

Corway then noted the huge proportions of the fellow and thought: ”What a terrorizing bully he could be to the poor sailors that chanced to anger him at sea.”

”But I never was in a sailor boarding house in my life.”

”Oh, tryin' to crawfish from your bargain, eh?” laughed the big fellow. ”It won't go; s.h.i.+p's bally well short-handed, long vige, too, and the capt'n had to do it!”

”Do what?” Corway sharply snapped.

”Why, he pays over the money afore they'd h'ist ye over the rail.

Better talk to the capt'n. He's comin' for'ard now,” and the mate stepped over and leaned on the bulwark.

Corway at once turned and moved toward the captain, who was approaching with his first officer, from amids.h.i.+ps, smoking a cigar.

”Yes, I am the captain. What do you want?”

”To be put ash.o.r.e!” Corway demanded. ”I've been sandbagged and robbed, and evidently sold to you for a sailor, which I am not.”

”Not a sailor, eh,” the captain said, taking the cigar from his mouth and looking sharply at Corway. ”What did you sign the articles for?”

”I never signed any articles.” By this time Corway was fully alive to his position and spoke with rising heat and ill-suppressed indignation.

”Oh, yes you did!” sneered the first officer, ”but you were too drunk to remember it.”

”Repeat that, and I'll choke the words back down your throat,” and Corway stepped menacingly toward him.

The captain held up his hand warningly and looked at Corway as if he was daffy, then said slowly and meaningly: ”Be careful, young man; that is insubordination; a repet.i.tion will land you in irons. The boarding-house master swore that he saw you sign the articles, and he had other witnesses to your signature to satisfy me before I paid him your wages for six months in advance on your order.”

”I signed no articles, and I know nothing about it,” fumed Corway.

”And I again demand, as an American citizen, that you put me ash.o.r.e, or I shall libel this s.h.i.+p for abduction.”

”Ah, ah, ah,” sneered the first officer, who was unable to conceal his ill-will to Corway since the latter's threat to choke him. ”Give the dandy a lady's handkerchief, and he'll believe the s.h.i.+p's a jolly good wine cask.”

Corway struck him square on the mouth. ”Take that for your insolence, you contemptible puppy,” and following him up with clenched fists, as the officer stumbled back, said wrathfully: ”If you speak to me that way again, I'll break in your anatomy.”

”Here, Judd,” called the captain to the mate on the forecastle. ”Take this fellow to the strong room and keep him there on 'hardtack' for three days.”

”Aye, aye, sir,” replied Judd.

Hearing the captain's orders, and seeing the commotion he had created, Corway saw that his only chance for escape was to go overboard, and without further hesitation sprang toward the side of the s.h.i.+p for a plunge, but his toe caught on the edge of a warped board and down he went sprawling.

The big mate jumped on him, and though he fought desperately, he was overpowered, and the last he remembered was being dragged by the collar over the lumber toward the forecastle.

When he next got on deck the s.h.i.+p was far out to sea and bowling along in a stiff breeze.

It is said that it is an ill wind that doesn't blow somebody good.

So with Mr. Corway, for though the boarding-house toughs had nearly given him his quietus and sent him on a long journey, they had conveniently done him the effective service of quas.h.i.+ng an encounter with John Thorpe.