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"Well, pretend you are my sister," he said, at last, "and we'll go to one." "Pretend?" said Miss Jewell, as she turned and eyed the cook. "Bert wouldn't like that," she said, decidedly. "N no," said the cook, nervously, avoiding the skipper's eye. "It wouldn't be proper," said Miss Jewell, sitting upright and looking very proper indeed.
Jewell on board, please?" she asked, with a smile. "Jewell?" repeated the skipper. "Jewell? Don't know the name." "He was on board," said the girl, somewhat taken aback. "This is the Elizabeth Barstow, isn't it?" "What's his Christian name," inquired the skipper, thoughtfully. "Albert," replied the girl. "Bert," she added, as the other shook his head. "Oh, the cook!" said the skipper.
And he came here preaching and healing; and he is a hypocrite and a fraud I know that now, my eyes are opened. He didn't do what he said he could do, and it killed Mary Jewell the shock; and there were other things he said he could do, and he didn't do them. Perhaps he is all bad, as you say I don't think so.
The clerk said neither of the firm was in, so I made myself as pleasant to him as I could, and posted myself as to the goods the house was handling, and the prices they were paying. By and by the elder Jewell appeared, and as I introduced myself he said: "Gun men are plenty to-day; my son has just gone to the hotel with a Mr. Blissam to look at his goods."
He had a flow of conversation, and seemed in no hurry to move. Captain Heseltine appeared with a summons for Dick, who sulkily obeyed. Puttock caught sight of Jewell, and, with an apology, pursued him. Benham sat talking to Daisy Medland. Presently he proposed they should go where they would see the people better, and Daisy, who was bored, eagerly acquiesced.
Remember the desert, and Mary Jewell, and your mother did you have a mother, Scranton say, did you have a mother, lad?" Tim's voice suddenly lowered before the last word, for the Faith Healer had broken down in a torrent of tears. "Oh, my mother O God!" he groaned. "Say, that's right that's right go on," said the other, and drew back a little, and sat down on a log.
It was late when the cook returned, but the skipper was on deck, and, stopping him for a match, entered into a little conversation. Mr. Jewell, surprised at first, soon became at his ease, and, the talk drifting in some unknown fashion to Miss Jewell, discussed her with brotherly frankness. "You spent the evening together, I s'pose?" said the skipper, carelessly. Mr.
Jewell to such consideration that he was fain to pause for a moment or two to regain control of his features before plunging into the lamp-lit fo'c'sle. The mate made but a poor breakfast next morning, but his superior, who saw the hand of Miss Jewell in the muddy coffee and the cremated bacon, ate his with relish.
Jewell glanced at him from the corner of his eye. "Cooking," he said, and put his hand over his mouth with some suddenness. By the time they parted the skipper had his hand in a friendly fashion on the cook's shoulder, and was displaying an interest in his welfare as unusual as it was gratifying. So unaccustomed was Mr.
He laughed himself, but in a strangely mirthless fashion, and, afraid to trust himself, went up on deck and brooded savagely apart. Nor did he come down to breakfast until the skipper and cook had finished. Mr. Jewell bore his new honors badly, and the inability to express their dissatisfaction by means of violence had a bad effect on the tempers of the crew.
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