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Updated: June 5, 2025
"Mind your helm there!" sang out Captain Brisco angrily to the steersman. At the same time there rang out a cry from Hen Lacomb. "Man overboard! Man overboard!" Alice, startled, leaped to her feet. Jack Jepson had disappeared! Alice DeVere was not an ordinary sort of girl. She may have been, once, but that was before her advent in moving pictures.
Lacomb, here," and he indicated the strange man, "when, all at once the ship gives a lurch, and well, I went over, that's all I guess," and he looked at Lacomb, as though to get him to confirm the account. "Yes that's right," said the other. "I I tried to grab him, but I was too late. I nearly went over myself," he added, grimly.
He put to sea with this necessary part of a ship in poor condition, not thinking they would be needed. Brisco was a desperate man, and so was Lacomb. They had been involved in more than one shady transaction, and though both may have been aboard with Jack, during the mutiny, they successfully covered their tracks.
Jack Jepson is captain." "And I refuse to serve under him." "Very well. Then you can either work your passage, or pay for your passage, I don't care which. But I'm going to save this ship, and the lives of those aboard her, if I can." There was a sudden little scuffle near Jack Jepson, and Hen Lacomb went sprawling on the deck. "No you don't!" drawled Mr. Switzer in his most German comedian voice.
"Well, anyhow, we have fine weather for the start." The schooner was well out from the dock now, and the pilot was in charge, so there was nothing for Captain Brisco to do for the present. He had gone to his cabin, and the stranger, or, rather, Hen Lacomb, to give him the name bestowed on him, was with the commander.
A steward, a little later, came to where the rescued ones were talking together Brisco and Lacomb having gone off by themselves and the steward said the steamer's captain wanted to talk to the schooner's commander. "There he is," said Mr. Pertell, pointing to Jack Jepson. "That's our new captain." The steward looked. A queer change came over his face. "Jack!" he cried. "Is it really you?
But his wife Philomena, scraping sharply with her stick, informed him that if the good Ruth saw fit to convert even a heathen Turk into a husband for herself she would no doubt make a good job of it. So love came and went through the summer, practically unrebuked. Again the Bishop came riding up to French Village with Arsene LaComb.
"Yes," assented the old salt, "you did," and he shot a look at the other. Did Alice fancy it, or did Lacomb wince, and shrink back? And did a look pass between him and Captain Brisco a look full of meaning? Alice was puzzling over these questions in her own mind, when the helmsman spoke. "It wasn't my fault," he said.
"Do you mean that young man who was waving to Miss Dixon?" for a certain youth seemed very loath to bid farewell to the former variety actress. "Yes. Who is he?" asked Alice, accepting this chance to get out of answering, though what she had meant was the identity of the mysterious Hen Lacomb, and not the youth on the dock. "I've seen him before," Ruth said.
The ship's crew, of course, berthed forward, and the two mates, of whom Jack Jepson was one, were quartered with the captain. Alice wondered what would be the standing of Hen Lacomb. She learned a little later when she saw him taking his bag "aft." That meant he was to be treated as an officer. There is all the difference in the world on a sailing ship, whether a man bunks "forward" or "aft."
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