Part 38 (1/2)

”_Was_ we?” asked Skipper Billy. ”By G.o.d,” he roared, ”we _is_!”

”My G.o.d!” Docks whispered, staring deep into the skipper's eyes, ”they was goin' t' hang the skipper!”

There was not so much as the drawing of a breath then to be heard in the forecastle of the _Greased Lightning_. Only the wind, blowing in the night--and the water lapping at the prow--broke the silence.

”Skipper Billy, sir,” said Docks, his voice breaking to a whimper, ”was they goin' t' hang the crew? They wasn't, was they? Not goin' t' _hang_ un?”

”Skipper t' cook, lad,” Skipper Billy answered, the words prompt and sure. ”Hang un by the neck 'til they was dead.”

”My G.o.d!” Docks whined. ”They was goin' t' hang the crew!”

”But we isn't cotched un yet.”

”No,” said the boy, vacantly. ”Nor you never will.”

The skipper hitched close to the table. ”Lookee, lad,” said he, leaning over until his face was close to the face of Docks, ”was _you_ ever aboard the _Sink or Swim_?”

”Ay, sir,” Docks replied, at last, brus.h.i.+ng his hair from his brow. ”I was clerk aboard the _Sink or Swim_ two days ago.”

For a time Skipper Billy quietly regarded the lad--the while scratching his beard with a shaking hand.

”Clerk,” Docks sighed, ”two days ago.”

”Oh, _was_ you?” the skipper asked. ”Well, well!” His lower jaw dropped. ”An' would mind tellin' us,” he continued, his voice now touched with pa.s.sion, ”what's _come_ o' that d.a.m.ned craft?”

”She was lost on the Harbourless Sh.o.r.e, sir, with all hands--but me.”

”Thank G.o.d for that!”

”Ay, thank G.o.d!”

Whereupon the doctor vaccinated Docks.

XXV

A CAPITAL CRIME

”You never set eyes on old Skipper Jim, did you, Skipper Billy?” Docks began, later, that night. ”No? Well, he was a wonderful hard man. They says the devil was abroad the night of his bornin'; but I'm thinkin'

that Jagger o' Wayfarer's Tickle had more t' do with the life he lived than ever the devil could manage. 'Twas Jagger that owned the _Sink or Swim_; 'twas he that laid the courses--ay, that laid this last one, too.

Believe me, sir,” now turning to Doctor Luke, who had uttered a sharp exclamation, ”for I _knowed_ Jagger, an' I _sailed_ along o' Skipper Jim. 'Skipper Jim,' says I, when the trick we played was scurvy, 'this here ain't right.' 'Right?' says he. 'Jagger's gone an' laid _that_ word by an' forgot where he put it.' 'But you, Skipper Jim,' says I, '_you_; what _you_ doin' this here for?' 'Well, Docks,' says he, 'Jagger,' says he, 'says 'tis a clever thing t' do, an' I'm thinkin',' says he, 'that Jagger's near right. Anyhow,' says he, 'Jagger's my owner.'”

Doctor Luke put his elbows on the forecastle table, his chin on his hands--and thus gazed, immovable, at young Docks.

”Skipper Jim,” the lad went on, ”was a lank old man, with a beard that used t' put me in mind of a dead shrub on a cliff. Old, an' tall, an'

skinny he was; an' the flesh of his face was sort o' wet an' whitish, as if it had no feelin'. They wasn't a thing in the way o' wind or sea that Skipper Jim was afeard of. I like a brave man so well as anybody does, but I haven't no love for a fool; an' I've seed _him_ beat out o' safe harbour, with all canvas set, when other schooners was reefed down an'

runnin' for shelter. Many a time I've took my trick at the wheel when the most I hoped for was three minutes t' say my prayers.

”'Skipper, sir,' we used t' say, when 'twas lookin' black an' nasty t'

win'ard an' we was wantin' t' run for the handiest harbour, ''tis like you'll be holdin' on for Rocky Cove. Sure, you've no call t' run for harbour from _this here_ blow!'