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Updated: May 1, 2025
"Then I want to assure you," said Trask, speaking slowly and in a tone intended to carry conviction of just how he felt, "that I'm not the worrying kind, Captain Jarrow. And if Mr. Peth gets to acting up, I'm prepared to deal with him myself." "Oh, hush!" said Jarrow, in a low whisper. "We can't have any talk like that for'ard here."
"But I'll give Jarrow to understand that we don't want to hear any more quarrels." Trask and Marjorie left their chairs on the lee side of the poop, and leaned against the rail, the better to see what was taking place forward, where they could hear Jarrow and Peth in quiet argument. From their gestures it was plain that in spite of Jarrow's pleas Peth was still obdurate.
Were Jarrow here he would find out for me, but I have sent Jarrow on other business. I want to know within four days." There was a moment's stillness in the room; then, "Very well, sir," said Cleave. "I remember," said Jackson, "that you sent me the scout here. He does good service. He is at your disposal for the next few days." Drawing ink and paper toward him, he wrote a few lines.
Doc came up blowing, and began to swim toward the dinghy without further ado. Jarrow now yelled to the rowers to keep backing, and when Peth roared at him to "shut his head," the captain, taking advantage of the confusion, stood up and leaped into the water and began swimming to the schooner quite as fast as Doc swam away from it. "Let me aboard!" cried Jarrow. "All right," said Trask.
"Don't you feel worried about this, Miss Trinkets," said Locke, as Marjorie looked up doubtful. "Do you think it's serious, Dad?" she asked. "Serious! Not at all! We'll get out of here as soon as there's a breath of air, and leave that wild lot to themselves." "But poor old Dinshaw," she said, "and Captain Jarrow what's to become of them?" "We'll have to get Dinshaw, of course," said Trask.
"Where'd ye git it?" asked Jarrow, reluctantly gentle. "A rich man at the Bay View with a young lady and a young man in a helmet. I told 'em about the Wetherall and they give me this money to buy clothes, and sent me on the run for you. They want to go to the Golden Isle. I better see what Hood's got for charter." "You better stay right here," said Jarrow, pushing Dinshaw back toward the bar.
You can get him easy enough, and I'll stand watch here to see that you're not headed off by the dinghy." Jarrow said nothing to this, but went aft for his glass, and studied the group far up the beach. The sailors were gathering wood from the jungle, and making a pile about halfway between the edge of the forest and the water.
Beloved and revered by all, and in harness to the last hour of his busy life, he died in the year 735, just one hundred years after the coming of Aidan to Lindisfarne. "First among English scholars, first among English theologians, first among English historians, it is in the monk of Jarrow that English literature strikes its roots." J.R. Green.
It was merely a dark streak against the edge of the sea's brilliance, dividing sky and water. "Well, that's a fine note," said Locke. "What do they think they're getting paid for? To go away on marine picnics?" "If they come lookin' for pay, we're lucky," said Jarrow.
Trask ran after him in time to hear him splash into the water, and turning to come through the cabin for the long boat, heard Jarrow sobbing on the deck, and crawling about, or so it seemed, for the captain's arms were moving like a swimmer's although he was making no progress forward. And as he struggled, he gave gasping cries. "What's happened?" cried Locke.
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