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"To-day has brought just what I have longed for, have worked for and waited for, the commission for the spending of millions of dollars to make a little corner of the earth beautiful. Not a bad religion, that," said Nickols, as he told me that Jeffries had spoken a few words of decided business to him as he had packed him into Mr. Cockrell's car with father and Mr. Goodloe.
There were nods of approval as the minister took his seat, for he was much admired in the Association because of his piety, and much respected for his judgment. All knew that nothing could possibly harm them if they followed Rev. Cockrell's advice. Then the Rev. Dr.
Jack Cockrell's teeth chattered but not with cold as the boat bobbed away from the side of the Revenge. Presently Joe recognized the pirate at the steering oar as a petty officer who had often befriended him. This fellow's swarthy, pockmarked face crinkled in a smile as he flourished his broad hat and yelled: "Stab my gizzard, but here's the London 'prentice-boy a-cruisin' on his own adventure."
This he accomplished after great difficulty and had to whistle and wait for a response before he could be sure of Jack Cockrell's whereabouts. "What luck, Joe?" was the plaintive question. "I'd sooner starve than be left alone in this dungeon." "Behold the dashing 'prentice-boy with another hairbreadth escape to his credit," replied the hero.
It would have made him happy and contented to be marching against the Indians with Stede Bonnet and his cut-throats, in peril of tomahawks and ambuscades. Small wonder that poor Jack Cockrell's notions of right and wrong were rather confused, for he lived in an age when might ruled blue water, when every ship was armed and merchant seamen fought to save their skins as well as their cargoes.
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