Mother Careys Chicken | Page 7

Gregory?" said Mark.
"Yes, sir, I am; and what then?" cried the mate angrily.
"My name is Strong, and I'm going with my father as far as Penzance."
"You may go with your father as far as Shanghai if you like, young
man," said the mate angrily; "but I'm not going to have my deck turned
into a kennel, so you'd better take your dog ashore."
Mark stood staring as the mate walked away to give some orders in an
angry tone to another gang of sailors working aft. Then he shouted a
command to some men busy in the rigging; while, when Mark turned
his head, it was to find Billy Widgeon patting the dog, and smiling up at

him.
"He's a bit waxy to-day. Just going outer dock into the river, and
there's a lot o' work to be done."
"But I thought my father was captain of this ship?" said Mark.
"So he is, youngster, but old Greg does what he likes when the skipper
aren't aboard. Oh, here is the skipper!"
"Ah! Mark, my lad, here you are then. So you've brought the dog?"
"Yes, father, and--"
"Where's Mr Gregory?"
"Over yonder, sir," said Billy Widgeon. "Pst!" he whispered to Mark,
"say somewhat about the dog."
"Do you want him to stay then?" said Mark.
"Stop! Sartin I do. Why, theer'll be him and old Jack, and they'll have
no end of a game aboard when theer's a calm. There, the skipper's gone
to old Greg, and you aren't said a word."
"But I will," said Mark. "Who is Jack?"
"Who is Jack! Why, I thought every one knowed who Jack is. Our big
monkey. He's tucked up somewhere 'cause it's cold. You wait till the
sun's out."
"Well, Captain Strong, I object to dogs and cats on board ship."
"They are no worse than monkeys."
"A deal, sir, and I object to them."
"Nonsense, Gregory!" said Captain Strong persuasively. "The boy's
only going as far as Penzance, and he loves his dog."

"Can't help that, sir. Dogs are no addition to a crew."
"Not a bit, Gregory. Neither are monkeys; but, to oblige me--"
"Oh very well, captain, if it's to oblige you, I have no more to say, and
the dog can stop."
"Hear that, youngster?" said Billy.
It was plainly audible to half the deck; and as Mark nodded his head he
fell a-wondering how it was that his father, who was captain, could
allow his inferior officer to be so dictatorial and to bully every one
about him.
"It's all right," said Billy Widgeon, with a confidential wink and a smile;
"he's going to let him stop."
This was another puzzle for Mark, but he kept his thoughts to himself.
"Look here--where are you going to stow him?" continued the little
sailor, speaking of the dog as if he were a box or bale.
"Keep him with me," replied the lad.
"But you'll want a place for him somewheres. You come along o' me
and I'll find you one in the forksle."
After a momentary hesitation Mark accepted the offer, and the sailor
pointed out a suitable corner, according to his ideas.
"He'll be pretty close to my berth, and I can give an eye to him."
The offer was friendly, and Bruff seemed disposed to accept the sailor's
advances to some extent, suffering himself to be patted and his ears
pulled; but when the friendliness took the form of a pull at his tail he
began to make thunder somewhere in his chest, and turned so sharply
round that by an involuntary action Billy. Widgeon popped his hands in
his pockets.

All the same when Bruff was told to lie down in there he flatly refused,
and followed his master aft once more, the little sailor having run
before them in answer to the mate's shout; and Mark saw him directly
afterward hauling away at a rope with some more so as to raise the
main-yard, which was not quite to the mate's satisfaction.
"What a disagreeable brute!" thought Mark as the mate seemed to
spend his time in shouting here, finding fault there, and everywhere
making himself disagreeable, while the captain looked on once or twice
and then got out of the way as fast as he could, and appeared to be
generally of no account whatever.
CHAPTER FOUR.
HOW THERE WAS AN UNWELCOME PASSENGER.
"Here, Mark, my boy," said the captain; "come here and I'll show you
your cabin."
The lad was standing watching half a dozen men who were reefing a
square sail high up on the mainmast, and the process gave him a
peculiar sensation of moisture in the hands and chill in the back, for the
men were standing upon a rope looped beneath the yard, and apparently
holding