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Updated: June 11, 2025
For this he would receive his board and lodging and seventy-five dollars a month, a sum to be ridiculed in those "flush days," but which seemed to the broken-spirited and half-famished stowaway a princely independence. And then there was rest and security! He was free from that torturing anxiety and fear of detection which had haunted him night and day for three months.
Neither Mark nor Mrs Strong made any reply; but the stowaway, who was pretty well recovered from his exhaustion, whispered to Billy Widgeon that he hoped it might be so; and then silence fell upon the boat as they rowed slowly back toward the crater, where it was the captain's intention to get the ladies on board the little vessel.
"I ownly filt him jist move once, whin I kicked him wid me fut unknowns to me, as I wor sayin' about stowin' the cable." "Dead men don't move," replied the captain sharply, the hands round grinning at the boatswain's Irish bull. "Some of you idlers there, go down and fetch this stowaway up and let us see what he's made of."
And Captain Solomon was on the quarter deck, looking out over the ocean and at the ship and at the sailors, and he saw the stowaway. "Who is that man and where did he come from?" he said to the mate. And the mate looked and saw the man, and he didn't know. "I'm sure I don't know, sir," answered the mate. "Call him up," said Captain Solomon.
With a wrench the stowaway tore himself free and made a dash for the companion way. A couple of sailors instantly tripped him up. "Let go of me; I'm a cabin passenger," cried Cupples. "Bless me!" I cried in astonishment. "This isn't you, Cupples? Why, I acted on your own advice and that of Revised Statutes, No. what ever-they-were."
"Why doesn't the Captain ask him to have a look at this stowaway fellow?" "What would be the good of that?" demanded Mr. Landover. "I never saw a detective in my life that knew what to do in an emergency. Soon as you get one of them where he can't telephone in to headquarters for instructions he's as helpless as a baby. Don't talk to me about detectives.
The Doraine was barely twenty-four hours out from port and ploughing along steadily through a choppy sea when Mr. Mott, the First Officer, reported to Captain Trigger that a stowaway had been found on board. "German?" inquired Captain Trigger tersely. "No, sir. At least, he doesn't look it and, what's more, he doesn't act it. Claims to be American born and bred."
He was a sort of desert stowaway; tolerated because, though eccentric and quite alarming in appearance, he was always in good humor, and often useful, having a willingness to do as many of the chores as others would trust him to perform. He was notable as a physical curiosity, though not actually deformed. Low of stature, he came to be known as "Shorty," the only name we ever had for him.
He was promptly informed that she had taken passage for Villefranche, and had ordered her mail forwarded there in care of the steamship agency. More suggestive of a stowaway than a millionaire, thought Blanco the following afternoon, when he had come over the side of the Isis and sought out the owner of the yacht.
Presently he reappeared with the stowaway in charge. Captain Trigger beheld a well set-up young man of medium height, with freshly shaven chin and jaws, carefully brushed hair, spotless white shirt and collar, and, revealed in a quick glance, recently scrubbed hands. His brown Norfolk jacket was open, and he carried a brand new, though somewhat shapeless pan-ama hat in his hand.
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