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Updated: June 28, 2025
"Oh, that sounds like a boy, Mr. Trenholm you better leave it out." "No, sir. This is my story, and you will please sign it now for what it is worth." "It isn't the truth," he demurred. "But it is," I said; and he signed it, and I knew that he was taking new hope.
Trenholm's daughter Helen, whose portrait appears on an issue of Confederate bank notes. Charlie has just come by the railroad, bringing other letters from him, to mother and Lilly. In mother's is his last good-bye on the 12th. Again Mr. Trenholm is the theme. I could not help crying over my dear little brother's manly, affectionate letter.
Trenholm," he called up to me. "I've got a job for'ard which must be attended to now, and I'll call for you in a bit of a while." He went down the forecastle ladder with his arms full of new canvas, and by the time I had finished another cigar he was up again, beckoning to us.
"It's no quarter, either, Mr. Trenholm, unless we have one of 'em, so he can't do any damage, and then we might give him a chance to live so he can hang. But they'll have no mercy on us if they get the upper hand." "I'd like to take Thirkle back to Manila alive just to get at his history." "I'd like to get Thirkle myself, Mr. Trenholm; but it's Thirkle we'll have to get first of all, if we can.
Then some of the fellows spoke to Hudson as that young man moved by them. In a few moments more, Hudson began to feel almost at home among his own High School comrades. Then Drayne, another 'sorehead, showed up. He, too, was treated as though nothing had happened. When Trenholm, still another of the "soreheads," looked in at the gym., he appeared very close to being afraid.
"Captain," I called as the match went out, "it's Trenholm, ready to fight with you. I'm not with that murdering crew. I didn't kill Trego. Don't be a fool, but give me a chance to help you." "Didn't kill Trego!" he said, amazed. "I know you didn't kill Trego, but you had the red chap do it for you." "No, I didn't.
Trenholm, as a literary man and a member of the press, even if in no other way, and you, my dear Captain Riggs, will be interested because it concerns the sea, and you may have some knowledge of the facts. When I was in Aden four no, five years ago it was I met a most remarkable gentleman. Most remarkable! He told me a story that was passing strange, and "
"You'll have them down upon us, or they'll turn the firehose down the scuttle and drown us like rats. I've broken too many mutinies, Mr. Trenholm. You can't do that." "But let's do something," I pleaded. "We might as well be planning something as to be sitting here weeping over what has happened." We stopped to listen as the hammering between decks grew louder.
"Soup all around, Rajah," said Riggs, as if to close the subject. "Do you carry deadly weapons, Mr. Trenholm? Do you approve of the bearing of arms?" "I always have a weapon at hand," I replied seriously. "One never can tell when it will be needed in this country, and I believe in always being ready for an emergency." "Indeed! And is it possible that you have a dagger concealed upon your person?"
Trenholm; and, as we are in the same boat now, I trust that what little animosity you may have borne against me in the past can now be forgotten. Mr. Buckrow has the game in his hands now." "Ye say the Kut Sang went down clean?" asked Buckrow. "Not a sign of her," I said. "Captain Riggs and the black boy went with her, and I hadn't a minute to spare.
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