Mr. Trunnell, Mate of the Ship Part 27

"Sure," was Henry's response.

Instantly the giant sprang upon the deck, getting clear of his stilts by some means or other. He seized Jackwell tightly around the body, and rushing to the rail, sprang into the sea, his followers yelling themselves hoa.r.s.e with delight.

When they were hauled aboard, Jackwell was in a fury. I expected him to shoot the sailor who had the audacity to pitch him overboard, but he controlled himself. The incident, however, ended the fun aboard the brig, Henry, between fits of laughing, telling the mate to serve all hands with all the grog they wanted.

"Do not wait for me, madam," said Jackwell, to Mrs. Sackett. "I shall not come aboard my ship in this condition. You get Mr. Rolling to take you and your daughter, and I'll follow, after Captain Henry has given me a new suit of clothes."

This appeared to be the best thing to do, as the brig's men were now getting boisterous with the grog, and our men were drinking also. The ladies were tired of the performance, although they had enjoyed some of it very much, and they were glad when I called away the boat's crew to take them back to the _Pirate_.

Jackwell appeared at the rail as we started off.

"Rolling," said he, "tell Trunnell not to stay awake at night worrying about my health. This bath will not strike in and tickle me to death as you might be agreeable enough to suppose."

"Hurry and change your clothes, captain," cried Mrs. Sackett.

"Madam," said he, with great solemnity as the oars were dropped across, "do not grieve for me. It will make me unhappy for the rest of my pious existence if you do. Fare thee well."

We were now on our way back to the ship, and he stood a moment, waved his hand, and then disappeared down the companionway.

In ten minutes we were aboard again, and I met Chips in the waist as I stopped to get a piece of tobacco.

"Well, what was it?" I asked.

"Faith, an' I got caught," said Chips, with a sickly grin.

"How was it?" I asked. "Come, tell me, while Ford and Tom get the cushions out of the boat;" and I drew the carpenter into the door of the forward cabin where Trunnell couldn't see us.

"'Twas a fine thing ye made me do, but no matter," he began. "Ye see, whin ye had started well on yer way to th' fisher, I thinks now is th'

time av me life. Trunnell ware sitting and smokin' on the wheel-gratin', an' all ware as quiet as ye please. I wint below whistling to set him off his guard, like; an' whin I sees me way clear I takes me chance at the afther-cabin, an' in I goes. I stopped whistlin' whin I makes th' enthry, an' I steered straight fer th' chist forninst the captin's room. The door ware open, an' I see the chist ware a little trunk av a thing, no bigger than a hand-bag, so to speak. Up on top av it ware a pile av charts an'

things sech as th' raskil sung out to Trunnell not to touch. 'Twas a cute little thing to do; fer how I could get inter th' outfit without a-movin'

them struck me.

"I finally grabs th' side av th' trunk an' tries to lift it. Ye may say I lie, but s'help me, I cud no more lift that little trunk than th'

ship herself.

"Gold? Why, how cud it 'a' been anything but solid gold? I cud lift that much lead easy. I stopped a minit and took out me knife, me mind made up to thry th' lock. I give wan good pick at ut, an' thin I hears a sort av grunt. There ware Trunnell a-lookin' right down at me from th' top av th'

afther-companion.

"Sez he, 'An' what may ye be a-doin' wid th' old man's trunk,' sez he.

"'Sure 'tis me own I thought it ware, by th' weight av it,' sez I.

"'Is it so heavy, thin?' sez he.

"'Faith, ye thry an' lift it,' sez I.

"He come down th' ladder an' took a-hold, shutting th' door to keep th'

steward from a-lookin' in. Thin he takes hold av th' thing an' lifts fer th' good av his soul. Nary a inch does it move.

"'I wud have opened it, but I heard th' captin's order not to disturb th'

charts atop av it,' sez I.

"'Ye would, ye thafe,' sez he. 'An' if ye had, inter irons would ye go fer th' raskil ye are. I never thought ye ware so bad, Chips,' sez he.

"'Tis a victim av discipline I am, fer sure, thin,' sez I. 'Ye know I wud no more steal th' matther av a trunk than fly.'

"'An' who give ye th' order, ye disciplinarian?' sez he.

"'Me conscience,' sez I.

"'Ye better go forrads an' tell yer conscience th' fact that it's a bad wan fer an honest man to travel wid,' sez he. 'An' tell him also to mind what I says about obeyin' orders aboard this here ship. If yer conscience iver wants to command a ship, he don't want to forget that discipline is discipline, an' whin it comes to thavery, discipline will get ye both in irons. Slant away afore I loses my temper an' sails inter ye,' sez he.

"So here I am, all in a mess wid that little mate. But th' trunk av gold is safe on th' cabin floor."

I had nothing to say further than that the matter couldn't be helped. If the trunk was all right, we might land a fortune yet in the reward Jim had told us about. Jackwell must have made off with a snug little sum. I climbed over the side again with some of the skipper's clothes, and we started slowly back to the brig to get him.

Ford was rowing bow oar, and Johnson aft, and both rowing easily made us go very slow. However, there was no hurry. Jackwell would in all probability take several drinks after his bath, and we would only have to wait aboard the whaler for him until he was ready. The sea was so smooth that the boat hardly rippled through it, and the sun was warm, making me somewhat drowsy. The two men rowed in silence for some time, and then Ford suddenly looked ahead to see how we were going.

"What's the matter with the bloomin' brig?" said he, rowing with his chin on his shoulder.

I looked around, and it seemed as though we had already gone the full distance to her, and yet had as far again to go. The _Pirate_ was certainly half a mile away and there was the brig still far ahead.

"Give way, bullies," I said. "Break an oar or two."

The men made a response to the order, and the boat went along livelier. I looked at the brig, and suddenly I noticed a thin trail of smoke coming from her maintop where the opening in the lower masthead should be.

We were now within fifty fathoms of her, when Jackwell came to the rail aft and looked at us.

"Give way, bullies, you're going to sleep." I said.

In a few moments we were close aboard, but as we came up, the brig slewed her stern toward us, and then I noticed for the first time that she was moving slowly through the water. There was no wind, and I knew in a moment that she was under steam. She drifted away faster, and the men had all they could do to keep up. Jackwell leaned over the taffrail and gazed calmly down at us.

"That's it, boys, give it to her. You'll soon catch us and be towing us back again. Sink me, Rolling, but you're the biggest fool I ever saw," he said.

I saw the water rippling away from the brig's side, and now could see the disturbance under her stern where a small wheel turned rapidly.

"Throw us a line," I cried to Jackwell.

"What d'ye want a line fer? Are ye a-going with us to the Pacific, or are ye jest naturally short of lines, hey?"

"Throw us a line or we'll have to quit," I cried; "the men can't keep up as it is."

Jackwell let down the end of the spanker sheet, and Ford grabbed it, taking a turn around the thwart. The boat still rushed rapidly along.

"Rolling," said the captain of the _Pirate_, "hadn't you better go home and tell Trunnell he wants you? Seems to me you'll have a long row back in the hot sun. I'd ask you all aboard, but this ship ain't mine. She belongs to a friend who owes me a little due, see? Now be a sensible little fellow. Rolling, and go back nicely, or I'll have to do some target practice, or else cut this rope. Give my kindest regards to the ladies, especially Mrs. Sackett. Tell her that I wouldn't have dreamed of deserting her under any other circ.u.mstances, but this brig has got the devil in her and is running away with me. I can't stop her, and I can't say I would if I could. That infernal King Neptune has got hold of her keel and is pulling us along. Good-by, Rolling; don't by any possible means disturb the charts on my trunk. There, let go, you Ford."

Ford cast the line adrift, and the boat's headway slacked. The brig drifted slowly ahead, going at least three knots through the smooth water. A long row of smiling faces showed over the rail as we came from under her stern. One fellow, waving his hand, cried out to report Bill Jones of Nantucket as "bein' tolerable well, thank ye." It was evident they knew nothing of Jackwell and treated the going of the brig as a good joke on greenhorns.

"That beats me," said Ford, panting from his last exertions.