The Pirate Shark | Page 7

the old seaman was cranky and wanted to have things just so, in which opinion Bob agreed, but as Jerry was to all intents a partner in the expedition, it mattered little.
The sun was just going down, and the boys were looking for the last time on the hills of San Francisco, when Swanson came along the deck and touched his hat to the captain in a hesitant fashion. Mr. Hollinger, who was no mere amateur sailor, nodded.
"Yes, Mr. Swanson? Mr. Peters come aboard yet?"
"Not yet, sir." Swanson hesitated again. "I--I wanted to ask you something, sir, meanin' no offense. Yesterday mornin', sir, there was a little round-shouldered man come aboard--gray hair, he had, and--"
"You mean old Jerry Smith?" asked Captain Hollinger. Somehow both he and the boys always thought of the man as "Old Jerry."
"Yes, sir, that's him. If I might ask, sir, is he a-going to ship aboard us?"
"Why, he was going as passenger, Mr. Swanson, but seems to have changed his mind. Yes, he'll sign articles as quartermaster. Why, do you know him?"
"No, sir, not rightly," and the mate shuffled awkwardly. "He--he ain't said to be a lucky shipmate, Cap'n. They tell queer yarns about him; I've heard say as he was off his head a bit. Is he the one what's bringing the crew abroad, sir!"
"Yes--why? This talk is all nonsense, Swanson. Smith is as sound in his head as you or I, and he certainly knows the sea."
"Yes, sir," agreed the mate quickly--a little too quickly, thought Mart, who was watching him keenly. "Yes, sir. He does that. And he'll bring a crew, Cap'n Hollinger, as'll take handlin'. I was thinkin', sir, that mebbe we'd have quite a ruction to-night--"
The financier laughed. He, as well as the boys, saw now what was on the mate's mind. Swanson believed that old Jerry would pick up a scoundrelly crew, most of them drunk when they came aboard, and that the millionaire might get drawn into a fight with them. Much as he disliked the big mate, Mart gave him credit for being true to his salt, as indeed he was.
"Look here," smiled the captain, getting to his feet and facing the mate, who was an inch shorter than he. "I wouldn't be captain of this yacht unless I could take care of myself, Mr. Swanson. If you doubt it, I'll put on the gloves with you now!"
Swanson grinned. "No, sir, not me! I'm satisfied if you are, Cap'n Hollinger. I just wanted to ease off steam a bit--"
"I understand," laughed the financier. "But I guess you and Peters can handle the crew right enough. Now, you come down and mess with us, and Mr. Peters can take the deck when he comes."
All four descended into the mess cabin as Ah Sing rang the bell, and during the meal Mart revised his opinion of the mate to some extent. He saw that Swanson did not like him because he considered the wireless job a sinecure, and wanted to keep all the crew hard at work all the time. It was the usage of the sea, and the big mate himself was blunt and well-meaning. But Mart Judson had no mind to be ordered about by anyone, and he determined that if Swanson tried it, the mate would find out something.
Peters, the second mate, came aboard before dark, and put the engine-room crew to work, so that after mess the boys went on deck to find steam up and the lines ready to be flung off at a moment's notice. By ten o'clock no crew had come aboard, however, and Captain Hollinger finally ordered the boys to their cabins, in order to get to sleep early.
"Holly!" said Mart softly, when they had left the main cabin. "You going to bed?"
"Huh! With a scrap due to arrive? Not much!"
"Me neither. Let's get up in the bow."
So, treading very softly, they made their way to the bow and crouched there as comfortably as possible. Hardly fifteen minutes had passed when there came a tramp of feet from the wharf, and a confused murmur of voices. Looking down the deck, by the gangway light the two boys could see Captain Hollinger and "Liverpool" Peters waiting. Swanson had disappeared, as it was his watch below.
The noise of feet swelled up into a steady stamping; then, as Mart and Bob got to the rail and looked over, they made out the figures of eight or ten men in the dim glow from the gangway. But, to their great disappointment, there was no fight whatever, and neither did any of the new arrivals seem to be intoxicated. Instead, all halted at sight of the two waiting officers, and the boys saw the stoop-shouldered Jerry Smith come forward and touch his hat.
"We've come aboard, sir, all