Chapter II: Part 2

"How in the name of all that is holy and righteous did you guess it?" he asked with wide-opened eyes. "Thripp, my man, that is my intention, and no mistake about it. But keep it dark, and I will wake up Cade and make him joyful, a thing he very rarely is, for his career havin' not been a success appears to weigh on his mind, and his missis is a tartar, as I judge. Women worship success, and the fact that the poor old girl that has left me these tugs knew that I came to grief, and yet offered to marry me in spite of it, touched me at the time as much as the tugs do now."

In five minutes there were three exceedingly happy officers on board the _Nemesis_. Such a thing had not happened in one of Messrs. Gruddle & Company's boats since there had been such a firm. But now there were four very unhappy partners.

"I can't think why they are so happy," said Gruddle when the skipper and the mate came down and began their dinner, "but I feel sure it don't mean any good to us. I never was in such a position, and I don't believe it ever happened before that the owners of a vessel was in such a one. Oh, what shall we do if he won't go to Gib?"

At his instigation a bottle of champagne was sent over to the captain's table.

"Don't you understand, Butterworth," said the senior partner, when Butterworth objected, "that we are in a persition that is, I may say, unparalleled? A captain has an awful lot of power, and I gather from 'is be'aviour that 'e knows it. In the office we gave 'im all proper orders for Capetown, and said nothin' about Gibraltar, because you hadn't been fool enough to suggest it then. If 'e won't go there we can't make 'im, so if a little kindness and a bottle of champagne will do it it is very cheap at the price."

"I would like to murder 'im," said Butterworth, but the champagne was sent over to the skipper's table all the same. It was returned quite courteously, or, at anyrate, without any demonstration of hostility, and the partners knew then that war had been declared, and that peace could be obtained at no price, do what they would. They put it all down to the letter that Sloggett had given him, and they attacked Sloggett, who in revenge drank far more wine than he could stand, and went first for one of them and then for another, and finally got up enough steam to swear at the captain. In one minute and fifteen seconds by any good chronometer Mr. Sloggett was in irons, and in a spare berth without anything to furnish it. Captain Jordan was himself again, and not the kind of man to put up with anything from anybody.

When Sloggett was quiet and subdued, the skipper told them in a few brief but well-chosen words what he and his officers and the whole ship's company thought of them. He told them his opinion of their charity, and of the wages they paid, and of the grub they put on board their vessel. He went on to state in very vivid language what was said of them all the world over, and then paused for a reply, which they did not give him. He asked them what they thought of themselves, and whatever they thought upon that subject they did not venture to state it. He asked Thripp if he would like to say anything, and Thripp did make a few remarks about things the captain had omitted. Then Jordan asked them if they would like to hear Mr. Cade on the subject, for if so Mr. Thripp could relieve the second officer for a few minutes. They expressed no anxiety to hear any more counsel for the prosecution, and then Gruddle made a heart-rending appeal for mercy.

"Oh, take us into Gibraltar, captain, and we will forgive you all, and even raise your pay to what you think is the proper figure. Oh, don't take us to Capetown, for there isn't food enough, and I shall die of indigestion."

"There is plenty of food," said Jordan. "Oh, there is heaps of grub such as Mr. Shody sent on board himself, and as a lesson I'm goin' to take you to South Africa, and I hope to the Lord that you will survive it."

Shody shivered; he knew what bad pork was like. Gruddle, as a Jew, was no judge of it. But the beef was even worse than the pork, and the men for'ard were almost in mutiny about it already.

"But food like that is only fit for men who are doin' hard work," said the unlucky Shody. The skipper's eyes flashed and then twinkled.

"Is that so?" he said. "If it is so, there seems to be a remedy."

What the remedy was he declined to state, and the firm declined to believe that it could be the one that occurred to them all with dreadful vividness. Oh no, it could not be that! Captain Jordan left them thinking, and retired into privacy for the remainder of the night. The trouble of wondering what was to happen to them came to an end in the morning, when by some strange chance, if it was a chance, the deck hands came as a deputation to the captain and laid a complaint against the grub. Jordan requested the presence on deck of the partners, and they knew better than to refuse.

"What you have to say about the food will be better said before the owners, my men," said the skipper. "As you know, they happen to be on board."

As he spoke they crawled on deck, looking very unhappy. The steward, Smith, who began to see how the land lay, and treated them with far less respect already, told them what the trouble was.

"The men for'ard says the grub is rotten, gents, and they are furious and fightable about it. Oh, they are savage and very 'ostile."

That was distinctly calculated to cheer them up, and they were as cheerful as if they were ordered three dozen at the gangway. With them went Sloggett, who had been released from irons.

"Oh, here you are, gentlemen," said the skipper cheerfully. For the first time since he had been an officer all his sympathies were with the men. He was no longer the captain only, he was also a man, and he understood their point of view. "I thought it best that you should hear the men's complaints about the food. Now then, my men, what have you to say?"

The spokesman of the crew stood in front of the rest, and after some half-audible encouragement from his fellows he burst into speech.

"The grub is 'orrid, sir. Oh, it is the 'orridest that we was ever in company with. The pork stinks raw or boiled, and the beef fair pawls the teeth of the 'ole crowd. The biscuit is full of worms, and what isn't is as 'ard as flint. The butter makes us sick, sir. And not to make a song about it, but to cut it short, we are bein' starved."

"I'm sorry to hear it," said the captain. "But I am not responsible for the food, men, and when we get to Capetown I'll do my best to see that better stores are put on board. For the stores that you speak of Mr. Shody is responsible."

"If they are bad I 'ave been imposed on," said Shody; but the men made audible and disrespectful remarks which the captain suppressed at once.

"That will do. Go for'ard and I'll see what can be done."

There was only one thing that could be done, and he did it there and then. He had all the provisions that the partners had brought aboard divided among the men for'ard. He sternly refused Thripp's suggestion that the afterguard should share the plunder. Even more, the remaining bottles of champagne went the same way, and for the first time in their lives the deck-hands and stokers had a real glass of wine that had cost someone ninety shillings a dozen. The firm stood by in mute misery.

"That's the beginnin'," said the skipper sternly, and not one of them had the pluck to ask him what he meant. Gruddle went in tears to Thripp and asked him.

"You're the worst of the lot, you are," said the independent mate, "and I decline to tell you. But I've no objection to throw out a dark 'int that this boat is undermanned all round both on deck and in the stokehold. Does the thought that that gives rise to in your mind make you curl up? Oh, Gruddle, all this is real jam to us, and we mean to scoff it to the very last spoonful. It will do us good!"

Gruddle grasped him by the sleeve.

"Oh, Mr. Thripp, if you'll 'elp us out of 'is 'ands we'll make you the captain and give you anythin' you like to ask for in reason."

"Would it run to a thousand pounds, do you think?" asked the mate.

Gruddle groaned horribly, but said that he thought it might run so far.

"Then let me tell you," said Thripp, "that Jordan is an old pal of mine, and I wouldn't go back on him for ten thousand, or even more. And over and above that, my son, I wouldn't lose the sight of you trimmin' coal in a bunker for the worth of the firm."

He left Gruddle planted to the deck, a wretched sight for the gods, and promptly told Jordan of the offer that had been made to him. Jordan nodded.

"I ain't surprised," said Jordan. "But, after all, Gruddle is by no means the worst of the gang, and I won't send him down into the stokehold. I mean to keep that for Shody. And I want you to understand that I ain't doin' this out of revenge, but out of a sense of public duty."

He quite believed it, and Thripp saw that he did.

"It's all hunky so far as I'm concerned," said Thripp, "and I hope that you will put Butterworth in Cade's watch and Sloggett in mine."

That was exactly what the skipper had decided on, and he was much surprised to see that Thripp had fathomed his mind.

"To-morrow by noon we shall just about be abreast of Gib, and a long way to the west of it," said Jordan. "I'll give 'em liberty till then, and when I send 'em for'ard I will tell 'em how near Gib is. It will serve them right. I will do it without visibly triumphing over them, Thripp, for I don't believe in treadin' on those who are down."

"No more do I, sir," said the mate, "not unless they thoroughly deserve it."

He left the captain pondering over the situation, and presently imparted to Butterworth the fate in store for him. As Butterworth had nothing whatever to say he went on to the bridge and told Cade of the joy to come. Cade was very magnanimous.

"I'll treat him no worse than any of the others," said Cade with a smile, "no worse."

"That's good of you," said Thripp.

"Not a bit worse," said Cade again. "They are a holy lot of ruffians in the starboard watch, as you know, and I'll give them all socks if they don't look out. I tell you, sir, that I'm about sorry for Butterworth in that gang. Almost, but not quite."

He had a habit of repeating his words, of chewing the cud of them, and Thripp heard him once more mumble to himself that he was almost sorry, 'but not quite.' The mate knew that the one who would be quite sorry was Butterworth. He also had suspicions that Mr. Sloggett as a deck hand under his own supervision was likely to learn many things of which he was at present ignorant. He went to the engine-room and saw the chief engineer. To him he revealed the interesting fact that Shody was to be made an extra hand on the engine-room staff. Old Maclehose grinned like a monkey at the sight of a nut.

"Weel, weel, and do you say so?" asked Mac. "That is most encouragin', and it's more than whusky to me. He's the man that is responsible for all the stores, is he not, Thripp?"

Thripp said that he was.

"My boys will kill him, I shouldna wonder," said Mac. "But if they should, I'm hopin' it will be an accident, Thripp."

He wiped his hands with a lump of waste, and thereby signified that he wiped his hands of Shody's untimely decease.

"The oil is bad," said Mac. "I'm of a solid opeenion that Shody won't be so oily after we are through the tropics as he is the noo."

He said no more. He was a man of few words. Thripp knew he could be trusted for deeds. He went on deck and was almost sorry for Shody. The partners were quite sorry for themselves, and felt as helpless as flies in the web of a spider. They ceased to struggle, and when the usual grub of the _Nemesis_ was served to them by an insolent steward, who cared no longer for their authority, they sat and did not eat it and said nothing.

The end came at noon next day, when they were all on deck in fine weather, with Gibraltar far away on the port beam. Old Mac came on deck and complained to the skipper that he was short-handed in the stokehold. Cade spoke up with a pleasant grin.

"You know, Mr. Maclehose, that we can't spare you anyone from the deck. We're short ourselves, are we not, Mr. Thripp?"

"Two short at least," said Thripp, who also smiled as if he were pleased with the fact.

"I'll find you help," said Jordan, who was the only one who did not smile. He turned to the partners, who were clustered together in a sullen and disconsolate group.

"Do you hear, gentlemen, that the chief engineer is short of the hands he should have? I think I told you so in the office, and if I remember rightly, Mr. Shody said I would have to do on what the firm thought enough."

Shody turned as white as new waste, and then grew the colour of waste that has been used. The others fidgeted uneasily, but no one said anything.

"Under the circumstances I have concluded to give you the assistance of Mr. Shody," said the skipper.

"I won't go," roared Shody. "You can't make me. It is a crime, and I protest. Oh, it is scandalous!"

"You _will_ go," said Jordan, "and I'll see that you do. I'm goin' to teach you all something, I can assure you. And if you don't follow Mr. Maclehose at once, I'll have the stokers up to carry you down."

Gruddle implored the skipper to be merciful, and Jordan said that he would be.

"You are the oldest of the lot, Gruddle, and I have decided that I can best avail myself of your services by askin' you to assist the steward. The duties will not be heavy, and all you are asked is to be polite and willin'. You can now commence. If you stand there and argue I will put you into the stokehold along with Mr. Shody."

Gruddle did not attempt to argue. He was much too afraid that the captain would keep his word. He crawled down below and went to Smith, who set him to work on the light and easy task of cleaning out the captain's berth. While he was at it he heard loud yells from the main-deck, and was told by the steward that four stokers were carrying his partner Shody down below. Over what happened there a decent veil may be drawn. Old Maclehose and the engine-room complement had very little trouble with him and taught him a very great deal in a very short time. Sloggett, whose spirit had been taken out of him by being put in irons, went into the mate's watch without a single kick; and though Butterworth began to say something, what he was about to tell them never got further than his lips. Cade caught him by the neck, and running him aft discharged him at the door of the fo'c'sle, and recommended him to the tender mercies of the watch below.

"There, that is done now," said Jordan. "I feel once more as if I was captain of my own ship, and as if I had performed a public duty."

"We may get into trouble, you know," said Thripp.

"Not at all," said the skipper. "They will never dare say a word about it, and when we anchor in Table Bay we'll lock them up, and skip ashore and start for England under other names right off. Timms of the _Singhalese_ will be about sailin' the very day we should get there, and he'll be only too pleased to hear the yarn and give us a passage. In two months we'll be runnin' the tug and lighter business, Thripp, and Cade can run the coal-yard."

He smoked a happy pipe.

THE STRANGE SITUATION OF CAPTAIN BROGGER

"Brogger is no class!" said the crowd for'ard in the _Enchantress_, a big barque belonging to Liverpool, and just then loading wheat at Portland, Oregon. "Billy Brogger is no class; but mean--mean to the backbone!"

They hated him worse than poison, for there are some kinds of poison that sailormen do not hate. And Jack Eales, who was the head and soul and mouthpiece of the starboard watch, for the hundredth time explained the reason of their hatred.

"On'y it ain't 'atred," said Eales, "it ain't 'atred. It's plain, straightforward despisery. I've sailed with rough and tough and 'ard skippers, and never 'ated 'em. But our 'old man' is religious without no religion. Oh, that's a mean thing, that is! And there's no pleasin' of 'im. Never a decent word, nor a tot out of 'im if we works our innards out. The skipper ain't no class! 'E lets on to despise sailormen, and calls us ignorant. And what's 'is word for ever when 'e's jawin'--'You no sailor, you!' And 'ere I am ready to lay my duff for a month of Sundays against 'alf a pint of dandyfunk that 'e couldn't make a four-stranded Mattie Walker to save 'is unsaved soul! Called me no sailor, didn't 'e, over a real nice job of wire splicin'! I'll bet the 'old man' couldn't do an eye splice in a piece of inch and an 'alf manilla without thinkin' about it. Those that know 'im say 'e was the clumsiest ass ever sent to sea. Went up six times for 'is second mate's stiff. Why, the mate and the second 'ere knows 'im for no seaman, and 'e's as 'andy with a 'ambone as a pig with a pianner. They two loaths 'im just as much as us!"

There was a deal of truth in the indictment, for Brogger would never have got a ship but for the fact that the chief owners of the _Enchantress_ were his elder brothers.

"'Tis a pity we don't skip out here," said one of the men, "the old swine would have his work cut out to get a fresh crowd."

"Ay, it's a pity we're such a quiet, sober crowd," replied Eales, who on occasion was neither quiet nor sober; "but, as I showed you after our passage out 'ere, it would be money in Brogger's pocket and the owners' if we quit. And 'tis true 'e owns about three sixty-fourths of 'er 'imself. The boardin'-'ouse bosses are selling sailors at sixty dollars per 'ead. Flesh and blood are cheap to-day! I wish I could hinvent somethin' to get even with the 'old man' in this bally, rowdy, shanghain' old Portland. I'll give ten dollars to the son of a gun that gives me the least 'int of a working scheme to do it."

"D'ye mean it, Jack Eales?" asked the whole crowd.

"Don't jump down a man's throat simultaneous," said Eales indignantly, "for in course I means it. And what's more, I've got the stuff. I ain't relyin' on that blasted old devil dodger aft for no measly five bob a week. Since I took the pledge not to get drunk--real drunk, that is--more'n once a month, I can trust myself with money, and I've got it 'ere."

He kicked the chest on which he sat to show his bank.

"Blimy," said a young cockney called Corlett, who was the happiest chap on board, "I'll 'ave a shot for Jack's ten dollars!"

"My chest's not locked," said Jack, and among so friendly a crowd the suggestion, which was the friendliest joke, was marked up to Eales as happy wit.

"I'm in the race for that purse," said Bush, who was the oldest seaman on board.

"We're all after it," said the crowd, and for days afterwards they chased Jack Eales with absurd proposals, the very least of which was a felony, and the most pleasing absolute piracy.

"Oh, go to thunder," said Jack, when a lump of a chap called Pizzey proposed to scuttle the _Enchantress_ as she lay alongside the wharf.

"Oh, very well," said Pizzey, who was much hurt at the way his plan was received, "but I'll have you know that if you do it after all, that ten dollars is mine."

The nature of seamen is so childlike, so forgetful, so forgiving, that without further and continual irritation they would have talked till the vessel was towed down the Willamette and the Columbia, and for that matter all the way to Liverpool. But the skipper saw to it that they had something to growl about. He kept them working a quarter of an hour after knock-off time three times a week. He cut down their usual five shillings a week to a dollar, on the ground that he was reckoning in dollars just then. The fresh grub he sent on board was enough, as they said in the fo'c'sle, to make a pig take to fasting. And he nagged and growled without ceasing till Plump, the mate, who was a very decent fellow, hated him worse than the crew did. He listened to the second mate Dodman, when Dodman burst out into long-suppressed bad language.

"I oughtn't to agree with you, but I do, I own it freely," said Plump, as they stood against the poop-rail and watched Brogger pick his way through the mud on the wharf. "I ought to tell you to dry up, Mr. Dodman, but I find it hard to do my duty."

"He's a miserable, mean, measly, growling, discontented devil," said Dodman in a red heat, as he mopped his forehead. "Comes and tells me I ain't fit to stow mud in a mud-barge. Ain't it true when he was second in this same old _Enchantress_ he stowed sugar on kerosine? And if the old swab can rig a double Spanish burton, I'll eat this belayin' pin. Our skipper's a know-nothing, sir."

"It's my duty not to listen to you," said Plump sadly. "I don't hear you, Mr. Dodman."

"Then I'd like to roar it through a speakin' trumpet," said the insubordinate second greaser. "I'd love to put it into flags, and let every ship in Portland learn the precious truth. Didn't he say it was your fault, sir, that Smith skipped out last night?"

"He did," said Plump darkly, "when he'd told the best worker in the ship that he was a soldier! Told him he was a soldier!"

With the land alongside, what could any self-respecting seaman do but go ashore after so dire an insult? They say at sea 'a messmate before a shipmate, a shipmate before a dog, and a dog before a soldier.' It was no wonder Smith skipped, and was just then roaring drunk in Lant and Gulliver's, who were the boss boarding-house masters in Portland, and bought and sold seamen as a ranchman might cattle.

And that very night Corlett came up to Jack Eales as he was going ashore, and put his hand on his shoulder. The young cockney had a grin upon him which, properly divided, would have made the whole ship's company look happy.

"That ten dollars is mine," said Corlett. "Jack, you're ten dollars short. I wouldn't part with my claim on it for nine dollars and ninety-nine cents."

"We've 'eard too many rotten dodges lately," said Eales, "to take that in. What's the news now?"

But Corlett shook his head.

"I'm for the shore with you, sonny, and I'll tell you goin' along."

He bubbled as he walked, and every now and again burst into a roar of laughter, which was so infectious that Eales joined in at last.

"You are a funny bloke," said Eales; "and I'll say this for you, Corlett: I've never looked on you as no fool."

And Corlett sat down on a pile of lumber and laughed till he ached.

"Me a fool! Jack Eales, I'm the smartest cove on this coast. My notion's worth an 'undred dollars. It's as clear as mud, and as easy as eatin' good soft tack, and so neat that I wonder at myself. And it fits everythin'--everythin'."

"Then out with it," said Eales.

And Corlett came out with it.

"By Gosh!" said Eales--"by Gosh!"

He collapsed upon an adjacent pile of lumber and gasped.

"You've no right to be at sea," he said presently; "a man with your 'ead, Corlett, ought to 'ave a public-'ouse in a front street, and nothin' to pay for drinks. I've only three dollars on me. 'Ere's a dollar and an 'alf. I owe you eight-fifty."

He walked ten yards and came back again.

"You should 'ave bumps on your 'ead," he sighed. "This is hintellec', Corlett. It ain't mere cleverness, this isn't."

"You don't say so," said the cockney modestly.

"I do say so," replied Eales with great firmness; "I say it freely."

And they walked up town.

"You see," said Corlett, "'ow the 'ole thing stows itself away. It 'ardly needs management. Lant and Gulliver 'ates 'im, and they're that jealous of Shanghai Smith down in 'Frisco with 'is games, they'll jump at this. And then it's well known Mr. Plump ain't got 'is master's ticket. And young Dodman on'y got 'is second's ticket a v'yge ago. There'll be no goin' back on it if the agents find the right man. By the 'Oly Frost, Jack, we'll diskiver yet if old Brogger is 'alf a bally seaman anyway."

"It's a merricle, Corlett, it's a merricle!" said Jack Eales. "I never quite properly understood what books I've looked into meant by the pure hintellec'. You're clean wasted at sea, so you are. To-night we'll think it over, and to-morrow you and me will go as a committee of deputation to Lant and Gulliver if we sees no flaw in the thing."

"Take my word, there ain't no flaw in it," said Corlett.

"I'm inclined to believe you," said Eales, almost humbly. "I never thought to own up that a man on board the _Enchantress_ was my equal, let alone my superior."

He sighed, but Corlett encouraged him.

"'Tis on'y a fluke, Jack."

"No, no," said Jack; "no, no, this is real 'ead-work. I knows it when I sees it. I'm proud to be shipmates with you, Corlett. Shake 'ands again."

They shook hands, and presently Corlett spent the one dollar and fifty cents which he had earned by pure intellect.

"Per'aps I'm a fool to be at sea," he said to himself. "I shouldn't wonder if Jack's right."

And next evening they walked up to Lant and Gulliver's, and demanded to see either or both of the partners in private.

"'Tis puttin' our 'eads in the lion's mouth to come 'ere," said Jack Eales, "and you and me will do well not to touch a drop, whatever these land-sharks offer, Corlett. Doped drinks ain't for me just now. So don't go large at all, my son."

"I won't," said Corlett, "if none of 'em don't offer me a drink three times, I can 'old off it, Jack. Sayin' 'no' once is tol'rable easy. I can squeeze out a second if it's a case of 'ave to; but what I dread's the third."

Jack Eales nodded.

"The third time's what proves a man's principles, I own. I've gone to four times more than once soon after bein' very much under the weather. But 'ere we are."

They came to Lant and Gulliver's boarding-house, the whole front of which was a saloon. It looked a 'tough' house, and it was tough both inside and out. These gentry had a 'pull' in Portland which enabled them to do as they pleased, and the only thing that pleased them was to make money. Most of the other boarding-houses had been fined out of existence, owing to a law that Mr. Lant had lobbied for at Salem. His conduct in the matter had brought him much praise for noble disinterestedness. He had asked for fines of five hundred dollars for gross infractions of the law instead of fifty, and the unsuspecting Legislature said it was a splendid suggestion, and passed the Bill with unanimity. As a result, his rivals, who were comparatively poor scoundrels without his control of the police, shed their dollars once or twice and then went under, and he had a monopoly. Both Lant and Gulliver had what Jack Eales called 'pure hintellec''; they would have adorned the bench in Ohio; they might have shone as Finance Ministers in Costa Rica or Panama.

"Well, wot is it?" asked Lant, who had the eyes and jaws and nose of a pugilist, and the domed skull of a philosopher. "Wot's the trouble here? What ship are you off of?"

"We wants a private talk with you, sir," said Eales, who had never met Lant before, and was more scared of him than he would have been of any admiral. For Lant and Gulliver's reputation is world-wide--all men who go down to the sea in ships know them.

He wrinkled his brows at them and considered for a moment. Then he led the way into the private snuggery, in which as much scoundrelism had been concocted as if it had been the head office of a great Trust or the Russian Foreign Office.

"Spit it out," said Lant as he sat down.

"We're in the _Enchantress_, sir," said Eales.

"And you want to get out, eh? What's my runners about? Haven't they bin aboard of you yet?"

He frowned savagely, and Eales hastened to acquit any of his myrmidons of such gross negligence.

"Oh yes, sir," he said, "they've been down every day, but on'y one man 'as quit. We don't want to leave 'er, but we ain't satisfied with the skipper, sir, and we know, or at least we suspect, that 'e ain't no favourite of yours neither, Mr. Lant, sir."

"Well, and if he ain't?" said Lant.

"'E do abuse you something awful; don't 'e, Corlett?"

"Awful," said Corlett; "it's 'orrid to 'ear 'im."

"And 'e shipped nearly all real teetotallers to do you in the eye, sir," said Eales, "for 'e said, sir, as no sober man would 'ave nothing to do with you."

"Are you a teetotaller?" asked Lant.

"To-day I am," said Eales hurriedly. "I was drunk yesterday, and the day after I can't look at an empty bottle even without cold shivers, sir. And it's the same with my mate; ain't it, Corlett?"

"The sight of a tot would make me sick," said Corlett plaintively.

"Well, well," said Lant, "what's your game? Spit it out, I say. I can't give all my time to hearin' you've not the stomach of a man between you. Now, quick, what is it?"

But Eales stood first on one leg and then on the other.

"You, Corlett!"

"No, not me," said the seaman of pure intellect.

"Well, then, sir, Mr. Lant, does you 'ave any sort of respect for Captain Brogger, or would you like to get even for 'is most unkind language respectin' you?"

Lant looked him up and down, and for a moment was inclined to break out violently. But he hated Brogger, who had injured his prestige once before by taking out of Portland every man he brought into it, and he was curious besides.

"Suppose I'd like to do him up complete-ly," said Lant, staring at Bales hard.

"And make 'im fair redik'lus and the laughin' stock of the 'ole coast?"

"That would suit me," said Lant. "It would fit me like a dandy suit of clothes."

"'E's the nastiest, meanest skipper as ever lay in the Willamette; ain't 'e, Corlett?"

"I never 'eard of a measlier," said Corlett, looking for a cuspidor in order to accentuate his verdict.

"Then 'ere's for tellin' Mr. Lant the 'ole thing," said Eales desperately. And when he was 'through' with his scheme, Lant lay back in his chair and laughed till he cried.

"It's great," he said, "it's great. Holy Mackinaw, it's great! And you say he's no seaman?"

"'E ain't even a thing in place of it, sir," said Eales.

"And you really won't drink?"

Eales looked at Corlett, and Corlett looked at Eales.

"We wouldn't mind takin' a bottle down on board, sir," said Corlett, who once more proved his intellectual capacity.

"And mind you keep your mouths shut," said Lant.

"Wild 'orses shan't drag a word out of us, sir," said Eales, "for when my mate's drunk 'e's sulky, and I'm 'appy but speechless."

And down they went on board the _Enchantress_ with their bottle, while Lant held a council of war with his chief runner.

* * * * * * *

Portland is a hard place; there is no harder place in the world. San Francisco, for all its reputation, which it owes so greatly to the gold times, is a sweet and easy health resort compared with the trading capital of Oregon. Oregonians from all parts of the State say it is a selfish city, with no more sense of State patriotism than an Italian city of the fifteenth century had of national patriotism. But in these days Portland is beginning to get a trifle nervous about its reputation. It is beginning to get written about, and the truth is told occasionally as to what goes on there. This is why a sudden and remarkable disappearance of Captain Brogger, two days before the _Enchantress_ was due to be towed down stream to the ocean, caused rather more sensation than it might have done a few years ago. The newspapers took two sides, and regarded two hypotheses as needing no proof. The papers which were trying to make Portland smell sweetly in the nostrils of the mercantile world said that some of the boarding-house bosses might be able to clear up the mystery. They gave reasons for supposing that Brogger was not loved by the tyrants of the water-front. But other papers declared that he had been knocked on the head and dumped into the river by some of his own crew. One reporter declared that a more evil-looking lot of ruffians than the crowd on board the _Enchantress_ never towed past Kalama. This journal was partially owned by Lant and Gulliver. They owned something of everything, even a judge. And the good police did what they were told, so long as it was possible. They set about a story that Brogger had committed suicide. The crew said he had been looking wild of late. Mr. Plump had no theory, and was only mad that he had no master's certificate. Young Dodman went round whistling, in spite of the fact that he was the last man to have a real shine with the skipper.

"I hope he won't come back, that's all," said Dodman. "If he does I'm for the shore, boys; I'm for the shore. I've not known what it was to be happy for months till now."

But Plump grew haggard running to the police and the agents. The _Enchantress_ was full up to the deck-beams with the best Oregon wheat, and was ready to go to sea. Every hour's delay meant a notch against him with the owners. And yet, as the owners were the missing skipper's brothers, he did not like to hurry. But the agents, who cared about no man's brother, put their foot down.

"We've found you a captain, Mr. Plump."

"What sort?" asked Plump anxiously.

"He's a good man and well recommended, and a thorough seaman."

"That'll be a change," said Plump. "Poor old Brogger was fit to skipper a canal-barge. All right, if you say so. We're ready if your new man is. All we want is another hand, and he's coming on board to-night if we sail to-morrow. We've had luck that way, whatever else has gone wrong. If Brogger had lived I believe he'd have lost the whole crowd the way he was shaping. He grew meaner every day."

And that night the new skipper came on board. He shook hands with his officers, and in half an hour Plump had almost forgotten his want of a master's ticket, and Dodman was swearing by the new man; for Captain John Greig was a man, and no mistake! He was quick and hard and bright and humorous, and there was that about him which was better than any extra certificate--he looked a seaman, and was one. And he was as happy as he could be to get a good ship. The vessel in which he had been mate had gone home without him, owing to his getting smallpox.

"I think we shall do," said Greig. "I wonder what became of that old duffer Brogger? Well, it's an ill wind that don't serve some skipper. I'm a skipper at last, and with any luck I'll stay so."

Early next morning, just as the _Enchantress_ was making ready to tow down the river, and when the whole world was still dark save where the dawn on the great peak of Mount Hood showed a strange high gleam to the eastward, Lant and Gulliver's chief runner came on board and saw the mate.

"The man we agreed to put on board is sick," said the runner, "and as all our crowd here is fixed up for, we've wired down to Astoria to our other house to send you a good man in his place."

"Right," said Plump, who was standing on the fo'c'sle head--"right you are. Ay, ay, sir, let go that head-line! Jump and haul--haul it in, men!"

The men were cheerful; there was something in the voice of a real man now on the poop that bucked them up. And they knew as well as Plump himself that he was happy to have got rid of Brogger. The _Enchantress_ looked as if she was to be a happy ship on the passage home.

"You seem a derned happy family," said the runner to Jack Eales as he skipped ashore.

"So we are," said Jack. "But tell us what's the name of the chap that'll come aboard at Astoria."

"His name," said the runner--"his name--oh, it's Bill Juggins!"

For he knew that Jack Eales knew more than he 'let on.'

"The new man's name is Bill Juggins," he told Corlett five minutes later, as they began to move swiftly down the smooth dark waters of the Willamette while the early lights of the town still gleamed and the snowy peak of Mount Hood was edged with roses in a rosy dawn.

"'Is name is Juggins!"

He slapped his thigh and laughed. They lay that night off Astoria, and before the tow-line was again made fast to pull her out over the great Columbia bar the new hand was put aboard in the usual condition of alcoholic coma with not a little laudanum mixed with it. He was stowed in a bunk in the fo'c'sle, where he lay just as they threw him. But Jack and Corlett were as nervous now as two greenhorns on a royal yard.

"I'm all of a bally twitter, I am," said Jack Eales. "D'ye know, Corlett, I ain't sure we ain't done after all. I don't believe I ever see this joker before. Brogger 'ad a beard."

"And Lant and Gulliver 'ad a razor," said Corlett.

"Brogger was pippy and pasty and white as--oh--as white," urged Eales, "and this josser is as black as a mulatter."

"Walnuts grow in Oregon," said the wise Corlett. "D'ye think we might let the crowd into the racket?"

"No, no, man," said Jack, "don't let nobody know as we 'ad 'alf an 'and in it. The cove's name may be Juggins, but we'll be jugged."

They were well out to sea, and the tug was a blotch of smoke to windward, before Bill Juggins, A.B., showed the faintest sign of life. And even then they only heard him grunt as he turned over uneasily and went off on another cruise in the deep seas of sleep.

"If he works like he sleeps," said the crowd in the second dog-watch, "he'll be a harder grafter than Smith that skipped. It's a wonder the second ain't been in after him."

But the new skipper and Plump and Dodman hit it off so completely that they sat together on the poop and told each other all about everything in the happiest way. For Greig, though he was a hard enough man in his way, had the gift of creating good humour along with respect.

"It's a wonder what became of my lamented predecessor," said Greig.

"He's certainly dead, sir," said Plump.

"As dead as mutton," agreed Dodman.

"It would be a compliment to put the ship in mourning, as he owned a share in her," said Greig; "and I think I shall do it."

"There's enough blue paint on board, sir," said the second, "to put a fleet into mourning. I don't know how it came here, for Captain Brogger didn't care to be extra lavish with stores."

It was Dodman's way of saying the deceased skipper was as mean as his brothers.

"Very well," said Greig; "you can do it as soon as you like, Mr. Plump. These are customs which I hate to see die out. And now I think I'll turn in."

As he went he added--

"I believe we shall get on very well together, gentlemen."

Plump and Dodman said they were sure of it, and when he had gone below they said--

"He's all right."

At midnight Plump went below too, and Dodman walked the weather side of the poop in a happier frame of mind than he had known since he came on board the vessel in Liverpool. The wind was fine and steady out of the east, and the _Enchantress_ slipped through the water very sweetly.

"Damme," said poor Dodman, "I believe I could sing."

He walked aft, looked at the compass, stared over the taffrail at the wake, looked aloft to see if the gaff topsail, which was an ill-cut and ill-conditioned sail, was in decent shape, and then whistled. Being right aft he did not see a short, dark man come from the fo'c'sle and stagger along the main-deck. But Bales and Corlett saw him and left the rest of the starboard watch, who were yarning quietly on the spare topmast lashed under the rail.

"'E's come to," said Eales. "Holy sailor, this is a game!"

Bill Juggins, A.B., laid hold of a belaying pin in the fife rail of the main-mast, and swayed to and fro like a wet swab in a cross sea.

"Where am I?" said Bill Juggins. "This is a nightmare. I want to wake."

He held tight and pondered. But his brain reeled.

"I have no beard," said the new seaman; "I'm clean shaved. My hair's that short I can't catch hold of it. These ain't my clothes. I can't stand straight. But if this ain't my ship I'm mad."

"D'ye 'ear the pore devil?" asked Jack.

"I 'ears," said Corlett. "If 'e 'adn't told me I was a soldier I should say it was pafettick to 'ear 'im."

"This is a barque," said poor Juggins, "and so's the _Enchantress_. But she's at sea, and yesterday she was in Portland not ready to go for three days. This is a dream, it's an awful, awful dream. I'll wake up, I will, I will!"

He hung on the pin desperately, and as he stood there Dodman walked for'ard to the break of the poop. He whistled lightly.

"Dodman used to whistle," said the man in a nightmare. "I used to tell him I wouldn't have it. I said it was a street-boy's habit. I shall wake presently, oh yes."

"Who's that jabbering on the main-deck?" asked Dodman.

"It's me," said the jabberer weakly, as a cloud of laudanum floated over his brain. "It's me, and I don't know who I am."

But Dodman jumped as if he had been shot. This was a voice from the grave; there seemed no mistaking Brogger's wretched pipe. But before the second mate could speak Jack Eales intervened.

"'Tis the new 'and wot come aboard at Astoria, sir. 'Is name is Bill Juggins."

The man from Astoria wavered doubtfully and looked up at the poop.

"I know that voice," he murmured. "That's Dodman."

"The pore chap's very drunk yet, sir," said Eales.

"Take him away for'ard," said Dodman, with a gasp.

"My name--my name's Brogger!" piped the man from Astoria.

"It's Juggins--Bill Juggins!" said Eales firmly, as he took him by the arm. "Brogger's dead, Juggins. 'E's dead and buried. Lant's liquor 'as been too much for you."

And Juggins burst into tears.

"I _thought_ I was Brogger," he said feebly. "But poor Brogger had a beard."

"So 'e 'ad," said Eales; "and 'e was as white as veal, and you're a fine, 'ealthy, dark colour. Come back and doss it out, my son. The pafettick story of the pore chap's death 'as been too much for you."

He and Corlett led the man for'ard and put him in his bunk, where he wept copiously.

"What are you so sad about?" asked Corlett. "You're no better than a soldier!"

The whole watch crowded in after them.

"What's wrong?" they asked.

"The chap that's tanked up says 'e's Brogger," said Eales.

The whole watch laughed so that the port watch woke up and cursed them with unanimous blasphemy.

"But this josser says 'e's Brogger!" urged the starboard watch in extenuation of their gross infraction of fo'c'sle law.

"Then 'e's no seaman," said the sulky port watch, "for Brogger 'ardly knew 'B' from a bull's foot as a sailorman. Dry up, and let us go to sleep!"

But Brogger kept on saying he was Brogger, till Pizzey, the biggest seaman in the port watch, threatened to bash him if he wasn't quiet.

"But--but I know you all," said Brogger. "If I wasn't me, how should I?"

"More knows Tom Fool than Tom Fool knows," said Pizzey. And he used such horrible threats that the skipper was quailed and became quiet, and at last fell asleep.

And in the meantime Dodman went down below and woke up Plump, who was in his first sleep.

"What's wrong?" asked Plump, as soon as he found that he was being waked three hours before his time. "You're as white as putty, Dodman."

Dodman shook his head and could hardly speak. When he did speak, Plump fell back upon his pillow and gasped.

"Brogger ain't dead," said Dodman. "Mr. Plump, Brogger's on board."

"You're mad!" cried Plump.

"I wish I was," said Dodman. "This is a Portland plant--this is a coast game. They shaved him and browned him and drugged him, and he came aboard at Astoria as a foremast hand!"

There was a deep silence for at least five minutes, and then Plump said, almost with a wail--

"This is most disappointing!"

There was a strange look in Dodman's face; it was so strange that Plump sat up and looked at him.

"Between you and me, sir," said Dodman, "he used to make both of us uncomfortable."

"He did," said Plump.

"And he was no seaman."

"He wasn't fit to sail a paper-boat in a bath," said Plump.

"Then he's dead," said Dodman with a strange wink. And Plump's face lighted up slowly.

"He's still dead," said Plump. "And if the owners don't like it they can lump it. And, what's more, I don't believe our new skipper would stand aside now for any man that ever breathed."

"If he does he's not the man I take him for," said the second mate. "I shall get up that blue paint in the forenoon watch, sir."

"Get it up," said Plump. And in ten minutes he fell fast asleep again. For it takes more than a little to rob a seaman of his slumber. But at four bells in the morning watch he had to communicate the news to the new skipper, who was an early bird. He broke the news warily, for he dreaded lest the 'old man' should do something in a hurry which he and others might repent of afterwards.

"It would be a mighty strange thing, sir, if Captain Brogger wasn't dead after all," he remarked just a trifle nervously after Greig had walked the deck once or twice.

"He might rise up now and find his ship missing," said Greig with a chuckle. "After all, that's only what I did, Mr. Plump. I was crazy, luny, dotty, and raving with fever before I was taken out of the _Winchelsea_, and when I came to she was days at sea."

He marched up and down again.

"And a dashed good man got my billet," he said, "and now I don't envy it him. It was a bit of luck my getting this, Mr. Plump, though in a way I own I'm sorry that you couldn't have it. I know that's tough."

Plump sighed.

"I'd ha' had my ticket, sir, but for a fluke that a youngster going up for second mate might have been ashamed of. A plus for a minus, and I was minus. You wouldn't like to step down for Captain Brogger now, sir?"

"Minus Brogger is plus me," said Greig. "I'd not step down to loo'ard for all the Brogger family up from the tomb."

"No more would I, sir," said Plump. "But----"

"But what?" asked the 'old man.'

And Plump gasped a bit.

"Last night, sir----"

Greig stared at him curiously.

"Don't hang in the wind like that!" he said sharply. "What is it?"

Plump burst out with what it was, and told Greig in a fine flow of words what the second mate had said.

"By crimes!" said Greig. "By all that's holy!"

He walked the deck for a minute, and then came back and stood close to his mate.

"Have you seen this man?"

"No, sir."

"Did Mr. Dodman believe him?"

"Dodman isn't a fool, sir. No doubt it seemed to him that the man had heard the tale of the captain's disappearance, and, having been on the drink, he took it into his head that he is Brogger."

Greig turned his back to the mate and stared to windward.

"It's delirium tremens, of course," he said. "That's plain. I'll see him after breakfast, unless he's sober and comes to his senses."

He went below.

"Crawl down now, and for a ghost!" said Greig. "If I do I'll be damned!"

And just then Brogger was sitting up in his bunk, chewing his fingers and trying to reconstruct the lost days. He had elusive visions of strange interviews, he tasted strange drinks, his head ached with horrid drugs, he recalled strange snatches of talk by strangers. And out of the phantasmagoria of his jumbled vision there came sometimes the powerful and brutal face of Lant, of the firm of Lant and Gulliver.

"Someone hit me!" he said aloud. And Jack Eales, who was wide awake, heard him.

"Where am I? I'm in a dirty fo'c'sle!"

He seemed to remember vaguely that he had been out on deck in the night. He looked up and saw Eales' face dimly.

"What ship's this?" he asked.

"It ain't a ship," said Eales; "this is hell!"

Brogger shook his head dismally.

"It ain't--you're jokin' with me! What am I doin' here? Is this my ship?"

"You was shipped in her," said Eales. "You came aboard in Astoria. Your name's Juggins."

"I'm Brogger--Captain William Brogger!" said Brogger.

"Hush, hush!" said Eales. "Don't say it. All the men 'ere 'as sworn to 'ave Brogger's life if 'e's alive. They say Brogger was mean, and made them un'appy. 'E called good sailormen sojers; 'e give 'em bad grub; 'e wouldn't 'ave no clothes dried in the galley off the 'Orn; 'e never gave 'em no forenoon watch in. In the dirtiest weather he 'ad 'em makin' sennit between shortenin' and makin' sail. 'E wasn't no sailor, they says, to add to it all. And it's a sayin' 'ere that Brogger saved 'is life by bein' killed, same as the pig did 'is by dyin'. For Gawd's sake don't say you're Brogger, or there'll be blood knee-deep--if there's blood in Brogger!"

"I'll--I'll go aft," said Brogger tremulously.