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Updated: June 10, 2025
However, the good-natured fellow, seeing how earnest I was in the matter, promised to take the chart to the skipper, who was lying down in his cabin again, feeling far from well of late, as, indeed, his looks lately showed and we were all afraid he had caught the same sort of low fever like Mr Ohlsen, the second mate.
"You can `hay' your grandmother if you like," retorted Captain Billings, decisively; "still, it's my order that Leigh acts as second mate until Mr Ohlsen is able to return to duty. I'm captain of this ship, Mr Macdougall, please remember!"
In view of the reputation of Wesley Marrs and Ohlsen and O'Donnell and their vessels, we could not understand the confidence of Withrow and his people in Sam Hollis. He had a great vessel nobody doubted it. But it was doubted by many if she was the equal of some of the others, and few believed she was better.
Ohlsen didn't reply to this save by a grunt, which might have meant anything, but I was certain Macdougall was trying to turn me into ridicule. Captain Billings, however, did not overhear the remark; and proceeded to test my accuracy with the sextant, making me take the angle of the sun and that of the distant land on the port bow.
When we were alone, as he pored over picture-books, or sat silently by the window, watching the drops chase each other down the pane, his talk was often of heaven and the angels. Daga Ohlsen had left us.
"Hoot, mon," he said aside to Ohlsen, the second mate "Old son of a gun" as the men used to call him, making a sort of pun on his name "the old man's setting up as dominie to teach that bairn how to tak' a sight, you ken; did you ever see the like? These be braw times when gentlefolk come to sea for schoolin', and ship cap'ens have to tak' to teachin' 'em!"
She had gone ahead of the fleet, taking almost a straight course for Minot's Ledge. Reaching across from Half-Way Rock to Minot's the fleet began to overhaul her. She, making bad weather of it along here, started to turn around. But, rolling to her top-rail, it was too much for them, and her captain kept her straight on for Boston. That was all right, but her action threw Ohlsen off.
On a cruise along the water front I found a whole lot of people. I saw Wesley Marrs and Tommie Ohlsen sorrowful and neither saying much looking after their vessels Ohlsen seeing to a new gaff. "I ought to've lost," said Ohlsen. "Look at that for a rotten piece of wood." Sam Hollis was around, too, trying to explain how it was he didn't win the race.
The punch-mixing, singing and story-telling went on and in the middle of it Tom O'Donnell came driving in. He was like a whiff of a no'the-easter out to sea. "Whoo!" he said. "Hulloh, Wesley-boy and Patsie Oddie and Tommie Ohlsen and, by my soul, Tommie Clancy again. Lord, what a night to come beating down from Boston!
O'Donnell in his turn could have crowded Ohlsen when he let up on the Withrow, but he did not. He, too, held up in turn and let Ohlsen have his swing going across. Across we went, one after the other. West-sou'west was the course to a stake-boat, which we were told would be found off Egg Rock, fourteen miles away.
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