The Second String. Gould Nat

docks. He felt like a man who had conferred a benefit upon his fellows. There was a glow of satisfaction on his face as he stepped up the gangway on to the deck. It was ten o'clock, and everything seemed very quiet on board. He saw no one about and shouted in his familiar gruff tones. The cabin boy came along grinning.

      "Where's the chief officer?" asked Captain Seagrave.

      "Ashore, sir."

      "Where's the chief engineer?"

      "Ashore, sir."

      "Where's the whole blessed crew, anyway?"

      "Ashore, sir."

      "Who the h – ll's left on the ship?"

      "Me, sir."

      Captain Seagrave seemed inclined to burst with wrath, he changed his mind and roared with laughter.

      "So you are in charge, Billy?"

      "Yes, sir."

      "Any report to make?"

      "Yes, sir."

      "Out with it."

      "Mr. Slack said he was very much obliged to you and that the whole blessed ship was topsy turvy."

      "Oh, he said that did he, anything more?"

      "Yes, sir."

      "Full steam ahead."

      "Mr. Macdonald said all his men had followed the advice he gave them, and you need not expect to see any of 'em for four and twenty hours."

      "Go on, any further news," said Captain Seagrave.

      "Please, sir, Mr. Macdonald said that if I kept to the craft, and looked out for you, he was sure you'd make it right with me when you came on board."

      "The devil he did. I'm very much obliged to Mac, but he was quite right, here's a dollar for you."

      The astonished lad gazed in awe at the skipper, the gift was so unexpected, so unusual, he could not understand it. As he walked aft he muttered – "I'm blest if he ain't topsy turvy, too."

      CHAPTER SIXTH

       TAPPING

      When Captain Seagrave appeared on deck next morning the first person he encountered was the chief officer.

      Sam Slack looked decidedly seedy; there was an up-all-night and commenced-afresh-in-the-morning appearance about him. He lurched forward and saluted the skipper. "That was a fine tip, captain, a grand tip; I backed it, so did most of the men."

      "When I came aboard last night I found the cabin boy in charge. Do you consider that the proper way in which to leave a ship?"

      "The circumstances were exceptional; we made a night of it."

      "Where's Mac?"

      Sam Slack smiled as he replied —

      "When I left him last night he was taking in sufficient Scotch to last him for a voyage; he'll turn up all right to-day, and we can do without him. I hope you had a good win."

      Captain Seagrave was in a good humour. The seventy pounds he had won was safely locked up in his chest.

      "I did all right, Sam. By Jove, young Redland can ride; it was a clinking race. I was in a deuce of a funk at one time, thought my money was gone, but he pulled through all right at the finish. I'll tell you what, Sam, we'll get in a few delicacies for the voyage. You'll go your share, I am sure."

      "Certainly, but I only had five pounds on, and won twenty."

      "A whole fiver! Where did it come from?"

      "The office. I bled them; got a bit on account. It was like drawing a back tooth, but I managed it."

      The skipper looked at him admiringly. He knew Sharp and Co. were not given to ostentatious displays of liberality.

      "You are cleverer than I thought you were. How did you manage it?"

      "Gave them your tip."

      "You told Sharp I was backing Topsy Turvy?"

      "I did. Moreover, I said you had persuaded Mac to follow your lead, and Sharp said if Mac thought it was worth a bit, he'd have a trifle on himself; and he did."

      "Then Sharp ought to send us a couple of cases of whisky aboard. I'll ask him about it," said the skipper.

      Later on in the day the chief engineer put in an appearance, and staggered into Captain Seagrave's cabin.

      "Oh, it's you, is it, Mac?"

      "Yes, it's me – what's left of me. You'll ruin the ship, Captain. It's not fair to the men; it's demoralising. I hope next time you get a tip you'll keep it to yourself."

      "That's ungrateful. How much did you win?"

      "Only a tenner. I had not sufficient faith in you to put on more than a couple of sovs."

      Job Seagrave laughed. He got on very well with his officers and crew. They really liked the "old man" because he invariably stood by them, no matter what trouble they got into, or whether they were right or wrong.

      A clerk from the shipping office came to the door of the cabin, and handed the captain a note. It advised him that the "Golden Land" must sail as soon as possible after the remainder of the cargo, which was to be delivered that day, was got on board.

      "All serene," said Job. "But what about my passengers? They don't expect her to get away before next week."

      "Then you'll have to hurry them up."

      "How the deuce am I to find them?"

      "That's not my business; you have your orders," said the clerk impudently. The office hands did not like the skipper; he was one too many for them.

      "Are you running the ship, or am I?" roared Job.

      "You have the honour to command the old tub, I believe."

      "Then you clear out of it as soon as possible, or you'll travel down the gangway faster than you came. You shrivelled up young leek, how dare you cheek me!"

      The clerk disappeared. He had experienced what the captain's temper was like before, and did not relish a repetition.

      "The atmosphere feels cleaner now he's gone," growled Mac.

      "We'll sail when we think proper, Mr. Macdonald, and I'm d – d if I am going without my passengers, Sharp or no Sharp."

      Mar chuckled. He gloried in defying "the powers that be" ashore.

      "Tell him we are short of coal. Inform Mr. Sharp that there is not sufficient grease on board to make a slide on the cabin floor, let alone to oil the engines. That ought to settle him."

      "Mac," said the skipper, "we are going to have a decent trip. I am about to provision this ship in a lordly style. Will you stand in, it will be worth it?"

      The chief engineer looked dubious.

      "I had a very small win," he said. "But I'll lay in some of my special, and you're welcome to a share."

      "Where's the crew?" asked Job, as he went on deck.

      "Half in and half out. They keep turning up in small quantities; the bosun's just arrived in a hansom," laughed Slack.

      "He's a credit to the ship. When the bosun can drive about in a hansom, there's no reason why the skipper should not have a carriage and pair."

      "None at all; I'd like to see you in it, you'd fill it well," replied the chief officer with a smile.

      "Stow your chaff; I'm going to board Sharp in the office. Mind you, I have forgiven you lubbers for deserting the ship last night, but don't let it occur again, or there'll be a concert on board."

      "And very little harmony."

      "That is so, Sam; you have a keen intelligence," replied Job.

      He drove to the office of Sharp and Co. in a hansom, and entered the premises with a defiant air. The clerk who presented the letter on board, saw him, and fled to the rear of the building.

      Abe Sharp was in his office, and as the skipper entered he asked him to be seated.

      "Haven't