"Dangerous? Them? I've seen their kind afore. Here, you!"turning to the three below. "What do you mean by this? Put down that knife, you lubber! Do you want to be put in irons? Over the side with you, you swabs! Git!"He began descending the ladder. Whether the sailors were merely too surprised to resist, or because they recognized the authority of the deep sea in Captain Elisha's voice and face is a question.
At any rate, as he descended they backed away.
"Mutiny on board a ship of mine?" roared the captain. "What do you mean by it? Why, I'll have you tied up and put on bread and water.
Over the side with you! Mutiny on board of ME! Lively! Tumble up there!"With every order came a stride forward and a correspondingly backward movement on the part of the three. The performance would have been ridiculous if Pearson had not feared that it might become tragic. He was descending the steps to his new acquaintance's aid, when there rose a chorus of shouts from the wharf.
"The cops! the cops! Look out!"
That was the finishing touch. The next moment the three "mutineers"were over the side and running as fast as their alcoholic condition would permit down the wharf.
"Well, by George!" exclaimed Pearson.
Captain Elisha seemed to be coming out of a dream. He stood still, drew his hand across his forehead, and then began to laugh.
"Well!" he stammered. "Well, I snum! I--I--Mr. Pearson, I wonder what on earth you must think of me. I declare the sight of that gang set me back about twenty years. They--they must have thought I was the new skipper! Did you hear me tell 'em they couldn't mutiny aboard of me? Ho! ho! Well, I am an old idiot!"Pearson stuck his fist into the palm of his other hand. "I've got it!" he cried. "I knew your name was familiar. Why, you're the mate that handled the mutinous crew aboard Uncle Jim's bark, the Pacer, off Mauritius, in the typhoon, when he was hurt and in the cabin. I've heard him tell it a dozen times. Well, this IS a lucky day for me!"Captain Elisha was evidently pleased. "So he told you that, did he?" he began. "That WAS a time and a half, I--"He was interrupted. Over the rail appeared a blue helmet, and an instant later a big and very pompous police officer leaped to the deck. He was followed by the wharf watchman, who looked frightened.
"Where's the other one of them?" demanded the policeman. "Oh, it's you, is it? Well, you're too old to be gettin' drunk and fightin'.
Come along now, peaceable, and let's have no words about it."He advanced and laid a hand on the captain's arm.
"You're under arrest," he announced. "Will you come along quiet?""I'm under arrest?" repeated Captain Elisha. "Under--My soul and body! Why, I ain't done anything.""Yes, I know. Nobody's done nothin'. Come on, or shall I--Hello, Mr. Pearson, sir! How d'you do?"Pearson had stepped forward.
"Slattery," he said, "you've made a mistake. Let me tell you about it." He drew the officer aside and whispered in his ear. After a rather lengthy conversation, the guardian of the peace turned to the watchman.
"What d'you mean by tellin' all them lies?" he demanded.
"Lies?" repeated the astonished watchman. "I never told no lies.""You did. You said this gentleman," indicating the nervous and apprehensive Captain Elisha, "was fightin' and murderin'. I ask your pardon, sir. 'Twas this bloke's foolishness. G'wan ashore!
You make me sick. Good day, Mr. Pearson."
He departed, driving his new victim before him and tongue-lashing him all the way. The captain drew a long breath.
"Say, Mr. Pearson," he declared, "a minute or so ago you said this was a lucky day for you. I cal'late it's a luckier one for me. If it hadn't been for you I'd been took up. Yes, sir, took up and carted off to the lockup. Whew! that would have looked well in the papers, wouldn't it? And my niece and nephew . . . Jerushy! I'm mightily obliged to you. How did you handle that policeman so easily?"Pearson laughed. "Oh," he replied, "a newspaper training and acquaintance has its advantages. Slattery knows me, and I know him.""Well, I thank you, I do so."
"You needn't. I wouldn't have missed meeting you and seeing you handle those fellows for a good deal. And besides, you're not going to escape so easy. You must lunch with me."The captain started, hastily pulled out his watch, and looked at it.
"Quarter to one!" he cried. "And I said I'd be back at that lawyer's office at half-past twelve. No, no, Mr. Pearson, I can't go to lunch with you, but I do wish you'd come and see me some time. My address for--for a spell, anyhow--is Central Park West,"giving the number, "and the name is Warren, same as mine. Will you come some evenin'? I'd be tickled to death to see you."The young man was evidently delighted.
"Will I?" he exclaimed. "Indeed I will. I warn you, Captain Warren, that I shall probably keep you busy spinning sea yarns.""Nothin' I like better, though I'm afraid my yarns'll be pretty dull alongside of your Uncle Jim's.""I'll risk it. Good-by and good luck. I shall see you very soon.""That's right; do. So long."
