A Sailor Boy with Dewey. Stratemeyer Edward

now Dan stepped between us. "Captain Kenny, you let Raymond alone," he ordered sternly.

      "I won't—he's called me a drunkard, and—"

      "He told the truth. You attend to your business and we'll attend to ours."

      ​"I'll—I'll put him in irons. He shan't talk so afore my crew!" fumed the captain.

      "You shan't touch him."

      "Shan't I?" The half-drunken man glared at both of us. Then he backed away, shaking his fist. "Just wait a minute and I'll show you a trick or two—just wait!" And still shaking his fist, he reeled off to the companion way, almost fell down the stairs, and disappeared into the cabin.

      ​

      CHAPTER II.

      THE COLLISION IN THE HURRICANE.

       Table of Contents

       "Now, what is he going to do?" I murmured turning to my companion.

      "Something out of the ordinary, that's certain," answered Dan. "He has just enough in him to be thoroughly ugly."

      "I don't believe he'll let this matter drop, storm or no storm."

      "Not he, Oliver. I'm afraid we have got ourselves into a scrape. I wish we were in sight of Manila."

      "So do I. But I haven't done anything wrong. Somebody ought to tell the man that he is drinking too much, Dan."

      At that instant Dawson, the mate, came up. He had been standing behind the mainmast and had heard every word uttered. His face showed plainly that he was greatly troubled.

      "This is too bad," he observed. "The cap'n bad enough, but you have made him wuss, ten times over, lads."

      "He hasn't any right to drink, Dawson."

      "We won't talk about thet—seein' as how ​he's in command and I'm only the fust mate. I'm sorry you quarreled, with the end o' the voyage almost in sight."

      "What will he do?" put in Dan.

      "I dunno. Drink more, I reckon, an' then come up twict as ugly."

      "What about this storm that is coming up?" I questioned.

      "I notified him of that half an hour ago."

      "And he didn't pay any attention? It's a shame! I don't want to go to the bottom of the China Sea, whether the captain drinks or not."

      "None o' us want to go to the bottom, lad. But then——" Tom Dawson ended with a shrug of his shoulders. He realized more than I did what a responsibility would rest upon him did he dare to issue orders contrary to Captain Kenny's wishes.

      It was about three o'clock in the afternoon, and the day had been unusually oppressive, even for this latitude, which, as most of my readers must know, never boasts of cold weather, but can easily break the record for scorchers. During the morning, when the sun had shone, the seams of the deck had run with tar, and no one had exposed himself more than was absolutely necessary. But now the sun was hidden by clouds that kept growing darker and darker, and ​the wind was so strong it could not be otherwise than refreshing.

      Captain Kenny had left positive orders that the main and mizzen courses be left as they were, fully set, and both sheets were straining and tugging as though ready to lift the two masts out of their resting places. The forecourse had been taken in, also the jib, but so far this had had no effect on the riding of the Dart, and she dipped her nose into every fourth or fifth wave that came along.

      "If I was you I'd take in more sail," remarked Dan, after a pause. "Even if you don't lose a mast, you're running the risk of opening more than one seam. If we founder——"

      He did not finish, for at that moment Captain Kenny's head reappeared above the combing of the companion way. He came staggering toward us with his right hand in his jacket pocket and a sickly grin on his unshaven face.

      "Now we'll come to terms," he began, with a hiccough.

      "Captain Kenny, how about that mainsail?" interrupted the mate. "The wind is freshening rapidly, sir."

      "I'll take care o' the—hic—mainsail, when I'll through which these—hic—young rascals," was the answer. "Yarson! Carden!" he bawled out. "Come here, you're wanted."

      ​At once two of the sailors, a Swede and an American, came aft and touched their forelocks.

      "Do you know what I'm—hic—going to do?" went on the captain, closing one eye suggestively. "I'm going to place both of you under arrest until we arrive at Manila."

      "Arrest!" cried Dan and I simultaneously.

      "You shall not arrest me," I added, and my companion said something very similar.

      "I said—hic—arrest, and I mean it. Throw up your hands, both of you."

      "I refuse to obey the order."

      "Do you know that I am the—hic—commander of this ship?"

      "You are when you are sober," returned Dan.

      "I am sober now—I never get—hic—drunk. I place you under arrest. Yarson, Carden, conduct the two passengers to the—hic—brig and lock 'em in."

      "Keep your hands off!" I exclaimed. "Don't you dare to touch me!"

      "And don't you dare to touch me," added Dan.

      We had scarcely spoken than Captain Kenny withdrew his right hand from his pocket and showed us the muzzle of a revolver.

      "You'll—hic—obey or take the consequences," he hiccoughed. "I'm a peaceful man ​until I'm aroused, and then——" Another hiccough ended the sentence.

      I must say that I was both alarmed and disgusted, but my disgust was greater than my alarm, for I knew I had right on my side and was willing to wager that in his present condition Captain Kenny could not hit the broadside of a barn, excepting by accident.

      The two sailors advanced, but they came on slowly, evidently having no relish for the job at hand. When the Swede attempted to take hold of me I flung him off.

      "Stand back!" I said, and at the same time Dan motioned Garden to keep his distance.

      "Are you going to do as I ordered?" fumed the captain.

      "I vos reatty to opey orders, captain," said Yarson.

      "So am I, cap'n, if you say it's all right," added Carden.

      "It is all—hic—right. Arrest 'em—arrest 'em on the spot!" vociferated the skipper of the Dart.

      "You keep your distance," I ordered. "If you don't it will be the worse for you."

      "The first man who touches me will get knocked down," said Dan, and caught up a marline spike which hung by the mast.

      "Captain, I think we really ought to look to ​those sails," pleaded Dawson, taking hold of his chief's arm. "It won't do to lose 'em, you know."

      "Didn't I say I'd take care of 'em when I'm—hic—through with these fellows?" was the surly return. "Stand back, Dawson!" and now the captain rushed forward and leveled his pistol at my head. "You march to the brig, and be quick about it, or I'll——"

      What Captain Kenny would have done, had I refused to march as ordered, I never learned, for while he was speaking Dan made a rush forward and caught the pistol from his hand and sent him flat on his back, in the bargain. Then my companion stepped to my side, and both of us backed up toward the companion way.

      For fully a minute Captain Kenny lay where he had fallen, nobody caring to go to his assistance. Then he cried loudly to the sailors to help him get up, and they did so. In the meantime Tom