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"The dratted Portygee's gone off to Paulmouth. He left word that he couldn't sail with us this trip." "Then he'll never sail on the Seamew again," declared the skipper grimly. "And that won't bother him none," said the boatswain gloomily. "I'll get breakfast for all hands," said Tunis. "I'm not above that. Where are the hands?" "As far as I know, Cap'n Tunis, they are where Johnny Lark is.
Since I've settled and married and got property, I've woke up in the night, sometimes, and thought what would happen to me if that Portygee's relatives got track of me through one of the crew standin' in with 'em blabbin' for what he could git out of it. I have to think about those things, now that I've got time to worry.
But he said enough to let Weiss er er Oh, why CAN'T I remember that Portygee's name? to let him know that he'd like to have him settle up what was left of his affairs, and to send word to us about about the boy. There! I hope you feel easier, Mother; I've got 'round to 'the boy' at last." "But why did he want word sent to us, Zelotes? He never wrote a line to us in his life."
A flicker of gratification shone on his face at the thought that the Cap'n was so nobly and graciously rising to the spirit of the thing. "It's come, Louada Murilla it's come!" gulped Cap'n Sproul, as he staggered into the kitchen, where his wife cowered in a corner. "He's readin' a warrant. He's even got the Portygee's name. My Gawd, they'll hang me! I can't prove northin'."
What are you talkin' about? Why, Louada Murilla, I never even knowed what the Portygee's name was, except that I called him Joe. A skipper don't lo'd his mem'ry with that sculch any more'n he'd try to find names for the hens in the deck-coop. "I made a mistake," he continued, after a time, "in not havin' it cleaned up, decks washed, and everything clewed snug at the time of it.
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