Sea Urchins | Page 3

all," sobbed the boy. "If somebody don't get shot in the back it won't be my fault."
The two seamen looked at each other. "That's wot hurt my 'and then," said Dobbs slowly. "I thought it was a jack-knife."
He reached over, and unceremoniously grabbing the boy by the collar, pulled him towards him, and drew a small cheap revolver from his pocket. "Look at that, Jem."
"Take your fingers orf the blessed trigger and then I will," said the other, somewhat sourly.
"I'll pitch it overboard," said Dobbs.
"Don't be a fool, Bill," said Smithers, pocketing it, "that's worth a few pints o' anybody's money. Stand out o' the way, Bill, the Pirit King wants to go on deck."
Bill moved aside as the boy went to the ladder, and allowing him to get up four or five steps, did the rest for him with his shoulder. The boy reached the deck on all fours, and, regaining a more dignified position as soon as possible, went and leaned over the side, regarding with lofty contempt the busy drudges on wharf and river.
They sailed at midnight and brought up in the early dawn in Longreach, where a lighter loaded with barrels came alongside, and the boy smelt romance and mystery when he learnt that they contained powder. They took in ten tons, the lighter drifted away, the hatches were put on, and they started once more.
It was his first voyage, and he regarded with eager interest the craft passing up and down. He had made his peace with the seamen, and they regaled him with blood-curdling stories of their adventures, in the vain hope of horrifying him.
"'E's a beastly little rascal, that's wot 'e is," said the indignant Bill, who had surprised himself by his powers of narration; "fancy larfin' when I told 'im of pitchin' the baby to the sharks."
"'E's all right, Bill," said the cook softly. "Wait till you've got seven of 'em."
"What are you doing here, boy?" demanded the skipper, as Ralph, finding the seamen's yarns somewhat lacking in interest, strolled aft with his hands in his pockets.
"Nothing," said the boy, staring.
"Keep the other end o' the ship," said the skipper sharply, "an' go an' 'elp the cook with the taters."
Ralph hesitated, but a grin on the mate's face decided him.
"I didn't come here to peel potatoes," he said loftily.
"Oh, indeed," said the skipper politely; "an' wot might you 'ave come for, if it ain't being too inquisitive?"
"To fight the enemy," said Ralph shortly.
"Come 'ere," said the skipper.
The boy came slowly towards him.
"Now look 'ere," said the skipper, "I'm going to try and knock a little sense into that stupid 'ed o' yours. I've 'eard all about your silly little games ashore. Your father said he couldn't manage you, so I'm goin' to have a try, and you'll find I'm a very different sort o' man to deal with to wot 'e is. The idea o' thinking this ship was a pirate. Why, a boy your age ought to know there ain't such things nowadays."
"You told me you was," said the boy hotly, "else I wouldn't have come."
"That's just why I told you," said the skipper. "But I didn't think you'd be such a fool as to believe it. Pirates, indeed! Do we look like pirates?"
"You don't," said the boy with a sneer; "you look more like--"
"Like wot?" asked the skipper, edging closer to him. "Eh, like wot?"
"I forget the word," said Ralph, with strong good sense.
"Don't tell any lies now," said the skipper, flushing, as he heard a chuckle from the mate. "Go on, out with it. I'll give you just two minutes."
"I forget it," persisted Ralph.
"Dustman?" suggested the mate, coming to his assistance. "Coster, chimbley-sweep, mudlark, pickpocket, convict, washer-worn--"
"If you'll look after your dooty, George, instead o' interferin' in matters that don't concern you," said the skipper in a choking voice, "I shall be obliged. Now, then, you boy, what were you going to say I was like?"
"Like the mate," said Ralph slowly.
"Don't tell lies," said the skipper furiously; "you couldn't 'ave forgot that word."
"I didn't forget it," said Ralph, "but I didn't know how you'd like it."
The skipper looked at him dubiously, and pushing his cap from his brow scratched his head.
"And I didn't know how the mate 'ud like it, either," continued the boy.
He relieved the skipper from an awkward dilemma by walking off to the galley and starting on a bowl of potatoes. The master of the Susan Jane watched him blankly for some time and then looked round at the mate.
"You won't get much change out of 'im," said the latter, with a nod; "insultin' little devil."
The other made no reply, but as soon as the potatoes were finished set his young friend to clean brass work, and after that to tidy the cabin up and help