Captains Courageous | Page 4

from one corner of his
mouth, leaned in over the high footway. His pasty yellow complexion
did not show well on a person of his years, and his look was a mixture
of irresolution, bravado, and very cheap smartness. He was dressed in a
cherry-coloured blazer, knickerbockers, red stockings, and bicycle
shoes, with a red flannel cap at the back of the head. After whistling
between his teeth, as he eyed the company, he said in a loud, high voice:
"Say, it's thick outside. You can hear the fish-boats squawking all
around us. Say, wouldn't it be great if we ran down one?"
"Shut the door, Harvey," said the New Yorker. "Shut the door and stay
outside. You're not wanted here."
"Who'll stop me?" he answered, deliberately. "Did you pay for my
passage, Mister Martin? 'Guess I've as good right here as the next
man."
He picked up some dice from a checkerboard and began throwing, right
hand against left.
"Say, gen'elmen, this is deader'n mud. Can't we make a game of poker
between us?"
There was no answer, and he puffed his cigarette, swung his legs, and
drummed on the table with rather dirty fingers. Then he pulled out a
roll of bills as if to count them.
"How's your mamma this afternoon?" a man said. "I didn't see her at
lunch."
"In her state-room, I guess. She's 'most always sick on the ocean. I'm
going to give the stewardess fifteen dollars for looking after her. I don't
go down more 'n I can avoid. It makes me feel mysterious to pass that
butler's-pantry place. Say, this is the first time I've been on the ocean."
"Oh, don't apologize, Harvey."

"Who's apologizing? This is the first time I've crossed the ocean,
gen'elmen, and, except the first day, I haven't been sick one little bit.
No, sir!" He brought down his fist with a triumphant bang, wetted his
finger, and went on counting the bills.
"Oh, you're a high-grade machine, with the writing in plain sight," the
Philadelphian yawned. "You'll blossom into a credit to your country if
you don't take care."
"I know it. I'm an American -- first, last, and all the time. I'll show 'em
that when I strike Europe. Piff! My cig's out. I can't smoke the truck the
steward sells. Any gen'elman got a real Turkish cig on him?"
The chief engineer entered for a moment, red, smiling, and wet. "Say,
Mac," cried Harvey cheerfully, "how are we hitting it?"
"Vara much in the ordinary way," was the grave reply. "The young are
as polite as ever to their elders, an' their elders are e'en tryin' to
appreciate it."
A low chuckle came from a corner. The German opened his cigar-case
and handed a skinny black cigar to Harvey.
"Dot is der broper apparatus to smoke, my young friendt," he said.
"You vill dry it? Yes? Den you vill be efer so happy."
Harvey lit the unlovely thing with a flourish: he felt that he was getting
on in grownup society.
"It would take more 'n this to keel me over," he said, ignorant that he
was lighting that terrible article, a Wheeling 'stogie'.
"Dot we shall bresently see," said the German. "Where are we now, Mr.
Mactonal'?"
"Just there or thereabouts, Mr. Schaefer," said the engineer. "We'll be
on the Grand Bank to-night; but in a general way o' speakin', we're all
among the fishing-fleet now. We've shaved three dories an' near

scalped the boom off a Frenchman since noon, an' that's close sailing',
ye may say."
"You like my cigar, eh?" the German asked, for Harvey's eyes were full
of tears.
"Fine, full flavor," he answered through shut teeth. "Guess we've
slowed down a little, haven't we? I'll skip out and see what the log
says."
"I might if I vhas you," said the German.
Harvey staggered over the wet decks to the nearest rail. He was very
unhappy; but he saw the deck-steward lashing chairs together, and,
since he had boasted before the man that he was never seasick, his
pride made him go aft to the second-saloon deck at the stern, which
was finished in a turtle-back. The deck was deserted, and he crawled to
the extreme end of it, near the flag-pole. There he doubled up in limp
agony, for the Wheeling "stogie" joined with the surge and jar of the
screw to sieve out his soul. His head swelled; sparks of fire danced
before his eyes; his body seemed to lose weight, while his heels
wavered in the breeze. He was fainting from seasickness, and a roll of
the ship tilted him over the rail on to the smooth lip of the turtle-back.
Then a low, gray mother-wave swung out of the fog, tucked Harvey
under one arm, so to speak,