Part 45 (1/2)
Tredgold looked hastily at his friends. ”Come and see me to-morrow,” he said, nervously, ”and we'll settle things.”
”You can send us the rest,” said Brisket, ”but we want that now. We're off to-night.”
”But we must see you again,” said Tredgold, who was anxious to make arrangements about the schooner. ”We-we've got a lot of things to talk about. The-the s.h.i.+p, for instance.”
”I'll talk about her now if you want me to,” said Brisket, with unpleasant readiness. ”Meantime, we'd like that money.”
Fortunately-or unfortunately-Tredgold had been to his bank that morning, and, turning a deaf ear to the expostulations of Captain Bowers, he produced his pocketbook, and after a consultation with Mr. Chalk, and an attempt at one with the raging Stobell, counted out the money and handed it over.
”And there is an I.O.U. for the remainder,” he said, with an attempt at a smile, as he wrote on a slip of paper.
Brisket took it with pleased surprise, and the mate, leaning against his shoulder, read the contents: ”Where is the 'Fair Emily'?”
”You might as well give me a receipt,” said Tredgold, significantly, as he pa.s.sed over pencil and paper.
Captain Brisket thanked him and, sucking the pencil, eyed him thoughtfully. Then he bent to the table and wrote.
”You sign here, Peter,” he said.
Mr. Tredgold smiled at the precaution, but the smile faded when he took the paper. It was a correctly worded receipt for twenty pounds. He began to think that he had rated the captain's intelligence somewhat too highly.
”Ah, we've had a hard time of it,” said Brisket, putting the notes into his breast-pocket and staring hard at Captain Bowers. ”When that little craft went down, of course I went down with her. How I got up I don't know, but when I did there was Peter hanging over the side of the boat and pulling me in by the hair.”
He paused to pat the mate on the shoulder.
”Unfortunately for us we took a different direction to you, sir,” he continued, turning to Tredgold, ”and we were pulling for six days before we were picked up by a barque bound for Melbourne. By the time she sighted us we were reduced to half a biscuit a day each and two teaspoonfuls o' water, and not a man grumbled. Did they, Peter?”
”Not a man,” said Mr. Duckett.
”At Melbourne,” said the captain, who was in a hurry to be off, ”we all separated, and Duckett and me worked our way home on a cargo-boat. We always stick together, Peter and me.”
”And always will,” said Mr. Duckett, with a little emotion as he gazed meaningly at the captain's breast-pocket.
”When I think o' that little craft lying all those fathoms down,”