“That will teach you a lesson,” the captain of the Chester was saying. “You’ve needed it ever since you came on board.”
To this January Jones made no answer. He was wiping the blood from his nose and from a cut on his left hand.
“The captain has been striking that negro,” whispered Sam. “It is an outrage and I mean to tell him so.”
“Don’t do it, Beans,” cried Mark, catching him by the arm. “You’ll only get yourself into trouble.”
But Sam would not listen. He was ordinarily a quiet, studious boy, but now his stern New England sense of justice was aroused, and tearing himself loose he hurried up and confronted the master of the steamer.
“I think it’s a shame for you to strike this man,” he said, in a loud, clear voice. “I know you are the captain but I don’t think you have a right to abuse any of your crew.”
At this frank speech Jason Sudlip stared in open-mouthed astonishment. For the moment he fancied he had not heard aright.
“Why—er—what——” he began, and then his eyes blazed with sudden fury. “Get out of here!” he roared. “Get out, I say! If you don’t I’ll knock you down!”
His advance was so threatening that Sam put up his hands to defend himself. But he did not back away, and Captain Sudlip stopped when directly in front of the lad.
“Did you hear me?” he stormed. “I want you to get where you belong. I’ll treat this nigger as I please. By Jove, I think you need a good licking too!” And he raised the chain as if to strike.