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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.
"A sea lawyer aboard a derelict. Ye do fairly well, considerin'. An' th' old man? You don't really mean it?" "What?" I asked; "do you mean that Thompson's a burglar; and that he's Jackwell himself?" "Nothing else, and I'm out for the reward, which I won't get now. You know now how he came aboard. If I'd only been a few hours sooner, it would have been all right.
"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.
Her daughter seated herself beside her in the stern, and Jackwell climbed over the rail. He was dressed in a very fine suit of clothes, his shirt-front white, and his waxed mustache curled fiercely. His glinting eyes had a somewhat humorous expression, I thought, and he appeared very well pleased with himself. Trunnell came to the rail and leaned over. "Good luck to ye," he cried.
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.
It was finally suggested that as the awning was stretched, the plum-duff could be served on deck better than below in the stuffy cabin, so here we enjoyed the meal. While we ate, Jackwell expanded more and more under the influence of duff and beer. He leaned back in his chair and gazed at the mainmast. "What makes the top of your mast so black, hey?
"Come aft, O king," bawled Henry, after the fun had grown fast and furious. "Come aft, and get a donation from the ladies." The great fellow was escorted unsteadily to the poop, where he saluted the women. "Have ye never paid toll to go to the other world, yet?" asked the king. "No," said Jackwell, who was getting tired of the fun, "I ain't never been acrost, and I ain't a-going to pay toll."
From where we sat behind the poop rise, nothing could be seen forward, and here we ate and drank while Jackwell laughed and talked incessantly, being a completely changed man from the sarcastic and somewhat truculent skipper I had known for the last three months.
Then she shot alongside and was fast to the mizzen channels, and I stepped back ready for action. Jackwell noticed my move and drew his pistol. I drew mine, and glancing around I saw that the carpenter and Johnson were standing near, with their weapons at hand, and half a dozen sailors with them. I would not be alone. A form sprang over the side, and I raised my weapon almost before I knew it.
Jennie stopped her ears and gazed, laughing at the throng. She had been across the line before in some of the older ships with her father, and knew of the practice. Mrs. Sackett and Captain Henry cheered and waved their handkerchiefs, but Jackwell sat silently looking on.
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