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"You know what you can do about it, 'Rion, if you like," the skipper said to him calmly, but aside. "I wouldn't want to feel that I was holding you to a job that you did not like. You can leave the Seamew any time you want." "Huh! The rats will be doing that soon enough," growled 'Rion. But he did not say this where Captain Latham could hear. It was Horry Newbegin who heard him.
"But although this Seamew looks like a new craft, she isn't. Sure, he knowed she wasn't new, Cap'n Tunis did, when he bought her up there to Marblehead. Only trouble is, he didn't seem to go quite deep enough into her antecedents, as the feller said. He bought her on the strength of her condition and the way she sailed on a trial trip." "Well, isn't that all right?" asked his listener.
Old Bill, the leader of this desperate expedition, was a fisherman in winter and a yachtsman in summer, as indeed were most of the crew of the Seamew on this eventful night.
"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.
Perhaps Cap'n Ira and Prudence were out there now, watching from the front yard the white-winged Seamew threading so saucily the crooked passage into the cove, the sand bars on one hand and the serried teeth of the Lighthouse Point Reef on the other.
The captain of the Seamew was in no mood to bandy words with little John-Ed Williams, but the sharp tooth of his troubled thought fastened upon one indubitable fact: if there is anything odd going on in a community, the small boy of that community knows all about it or, at least, as much about it as it is possible to know.
Half the port, and all of Portygee Town, crowded nearby wharves and streets to welcome Tunis Latham's schooner; for news of her peril and the way in which help had reached the Seamew had come down from the Head as on the wings of the wind itself. There was one face on the wharf Tunis Latham sought out with grim persistency as the schooner was made fast.
He had been a naval man in his prime and knew what was expected when a lady trod the deck. The Portygees were all widely asmile. Indeed, the entire company of the Seamew was cheered by the girl's presence. At breakfast time, which was served by Tony to the guest and the mate as well as Captain Latham, her sweet laughter floated out of the cabin and caught the attention of everybody on deck.
She doubted if the threat of bad weather would hold the Seamew in port. There was no rain just a wind which tore across the waste of waters within view of her station, scattering their crests in foam and spoondrift, and rolling them in huger and still huger breakers on the strand. It was a magnificent sight, but a terrifying one as well.
"And I cal'late by the newness of that suit of sails and her lines and all that she's Tunis Latham's new craft that he went up to Marblehead last week to bring down here and put into commission." "The Seamew!" cried Prudence, in a pleased voice. "Isn't she a pretty sight?" "She's a sightly craft. Looks more like a racing yacht than a cargo boat. Still and all, Tunis has got judgment.
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