Rick Dale, A Story of the Northwest Coast Part 5

"How could you talk to him that way?" asked Alaric, admiringly, as the boys left the shop, he minus his watch and chain, but with forty dollars and a p.a.w.n-ticket in his pocket.

"I couldn't once," laughed Bonny; "but it's one of the things poor folks have to learn. If you are willing to let people impose on you they'll be mighty quick to do it, and the only way is to bluff 'em from the start."

The next place they entered was a sailor's slop-shop, in which were kept all sorts of seafaring garments and accessories. Here, advised by Bonny, Alaric invested fourteen dollars and seventy-five cents in a blue knit jersey, or sweater, a pair of stout woollen trousers, two flannel s.h.i.+rts, two suits of heavy underclothing, several pairs of cotton socks, and a pair of canvas shoes.

Expressing a desire to make a change of clothing at once, he was shown a retired corner where he might do so, and from which he emerged a few minutes later so altered in appearance that it is doubtful if his own father would have recognized him.

"That's something like it!" cried Bonny.

"Isn't it?" replied Alaric, surveying himself with great satisfaction in a mirror, and fully convinced that he now looked so like a sailor that no one could possibly mistake him for anything else. "Don't you think, though, that I ought to have the name of the sloop embroidered across the front of this sweater? All the sailors I have ever seen had theirs fixed that way."

"I suppose it would be a good idea," replied Bonny, soberly, though filled with inward laughter at the suggestion. "But perhaps you'd better wait until you see if the s.h.i.+p suits you, and whether you stay with us or not."

"Oh, I'll stay," a.s.serted Alaric. "There's no fear but what I will, if you'll only keep me."

"Going yachting, sir?" asked the shopkeeper, politely, as he carefully folded Alaric's discarded suit of fine clothing.

"No, indeed," replied the boy, scornfully; "I'm going to be a sailor on the sloop _Fancy_, and I wish you would send those things down to her at once."

Ere the man could recover from his astonishment at this request sufficiently to make reply, Bonny interrupted, hastily:

"Oh no, Rick! we'll take them with us. There isn't time to have 'em sent."

"I should guess not," remarked the shopkeeper, in a very different tone from the one he had used before. "But say, young feller, if you're going to be a sailor you'll want a bag, and I've got a second-hand one here almost as good as new that I'll sell cheap. It come to me with a lot of truck from the sale of a confiscated sealer; and seeing that it's got another chap's name painted on it, I'll let you have it for one bob tuppence-ha'penny, and that'll make even money between us."

Thus saying, the man produced a stout canvas bag, such as a sailor uses in place of a trunk. The name plainly painted across it, in black letters, was "Philip Ryder", but Alaric said he didn't mind that, so he took the bag, thrust his belongings, including his cherished baseball, into it, and the two boys left the shop.

"By-the-way," asked Alaric, hesitatingly, "don't I need to get some brushes and things?"

"What for?"

"Why, to brush my hair, and--"

"Oh no," interrupted the other. "There's a comb on board, and, besides, we can't stop for anything more. I've been gone so long now that I expect the old man is madder'n a wet hen by this time."

So Bonny led the way to the wharves, and to a narrow slip between two of them that just then was occupied by but a single craft. She was a small sloop, not over forty feet long, though of good beam, evidently very old, and so dingy that it was hard to believe she had ever been painted.

Her sails, hanging unfurled in lazy jacks, were patched and discolored; her running rigging was spliced, the standing rigging was sadly in need of setting up, her iron-work was rusted, and her spars were gray with age.

"There's the old packet," said Bonny, cheerfully.

"Where?" asked Alaric, gazing vaguely down the slip and utterly ignoring the disreputable craft close at hand.

"Why, right here," answered the other, a trifle impatiently. "Don't you see the name '_F-A-N-C-Y_' on her stern? She isn't much to look at, I know, but she's a hummer to go, and a mighty good sea-boat. She's awfully comfortable, too. Come aboard and I'll show you."

With this the cheery young fellow, who had actually come to a belief that the shabby old craft was all he claimed for her, tossed his friend's recent purchase to the deck of the sloop, and began to clamber after it down a rickety ladder.

With all his bright visions of a minute before rudely dispelled, and with a heart so heavy that he could find no words to express his feelings, Alaric followed him.

CHAPTER VII

CAPTAIN DUFF, OF THE SLOOP "FANCY"

As the newly engaged crew of the sloop _Fancy_ slowly and awkwardly descended the slippery ladder leading down to his s.h.i.+p, he experienced his first regrets at the decisive step he had taken, and doubts as to its wisdom. The real character of the sloop as shown by a single glance was so vastly different from his ideal, that for a moment it did not seem as though he could accept the disreputable old craft as even a temporary home. Never before had he realized how he loathed dirt and disorder, and all things that offended his delicately trained senses.

Never before had he appreciated the cleanly and orderly forms of living to which he had always been accustomed. He could not imagine it possible to eat, sleep, or even exist on board such a craft as lay just beneath him, and his impulse was to fly to some remote place where he should never see nor hear of the _Fancy_ again. But even as he was about to do this the sound of Bonny's rea.s.suring voice completely changed the current of his thoughts.

Was not the lad who had brought him to this place a very picture of cheerful health, and just such a strong, active, self-reliant boy as he longed to become? Surely what Bonny could endure he could! Perhaps disagreeable things were necessary to the proper development of a boy.

That thought had never come to him before, but now he remembered how much his hands had suffered before they were trained to catch a regulation ball.

Besides all this, had not Bonny hesitated before consenting to give him a trial, and had he not insisted on coming? Had he not also confidently a.s.serted that all he wanted was a chance to show what he was good for, and that nothing save a dismissal should cause him to relinquish whatever position was given him? After all, no matter how bad things might prove on the sloop, there would always be plenty of fresh air and suns.h.i.+ne, besides an unlimited supply of clean water. He could remember catching glimpses, in foreign cities, of innumerable pestilential places in which human beings were compelled to spend whole lifetimes, where none of these things was to be had.

Yes, he would keep on and make the best of whatever presented itself, for perhaps things would not prove to be as bad as they seemed; and, after all, he was willing to endure a great deal for the sake of continuing the friends.h.i.+p just begun between himself and Bonny Brooks.

He remembered now having once heard his father say that a friends.h.i.+p worth having was worth fighting for. If that were the case, what a coward he would be to even think of relinquis.h.i.+ng his first real friends.h.i.+p without making an effort to retain it.

By the time all these thoughts had flashed through the boy's mind he had gained the sloop's deck, where he was startled by an angry voice that sounded like the bellow of an enraged bull. Turning quickly, he saw his friend Bonny confronted by a big man with a red face and bristling beard. This individual, supported by a pair of rudely made crutches, was standing beside the after companion-way, and glaring at the bag containing his own effects that had been tossed down from the wharf.

"Ye've got a hand, have ye?" roared this man, whom Alaric instinctively knew to be the captain. "Is this his dunnage?"

"Yes, sir," replied the first mate. "And I think--"

"Never mind what you think," interrupted the captain, fiercely. "Send him about his business, and pitch his dunnage back on the wharf or pitch it overboard, I don't care which. Pitch it! d'ye hear?"

"But Captain Duff, I think--"

"Who asked ye to think? I do the thinking on board this craft. Don't ye suppose I know what I'm talking about? I tell ye I had this Phil Ryder with me on one cruise, and I'll never have him on another! An impudent young puppy as ever lived, and a desarter to boot. Took off two of my best men with him, too. Oh, I know him, and I'd Phil him full of his own rifle-bullets ef I had the chance. I'd like to Ryder him on a rail, too."

"You are certainly mistaken, sir, this time, for--"

"Who, I? You dare say I'm mistaken, you tarry young swab you!" roared the man, his face turning purple with rage. "Oh, ef I had the proper use of my feet for one minute I'd show ye! Put him ash.o.r.e, I tell ye, and do it in a hurry too, or you'll go with him without one cent of wages--not one cent, d'ye hear? I'll have no mutiny where I'm cap'n."

Poor Alaric listened to this fierce outbreak with mingled fear and dismay. Now that the situation he had deemed so surely his either to accept or reject was denied him, it again seemed very desirable. He was about to speak up in his own behalf when the angry man's last threat caused him to change his mind. He could not permit Bonny to suffer on his account, and lose the position he had so recently attained. No, the very first law of friends.h.i.+p forbade that; and so, stepping forward to claim his bag, he said, in a low tone: "Never mind me, Bonny; I'll go."

"No, you won't!" retorted the young mate, stoutly, "or, if you do, I'll go with you; and I'll have my wages too, Captain Duff, or know the reason why."

Without paying the slightest attention to this remark, the man was staring at Alaric, whom he had not noticed until this moment. "Who is that land-lubber togged out like a sporty salt?" he demanded.

"He's the crew I hired, and the one you have just bounced," replied Bonny.

"What's his name?"

"Rick Dale."

"What made you say it was Phil Ryder, then?"

"I didn't, sir. You--"