“What in thunder’s going on here? Stowaways, and four of them, or I’ll be blowed!” exclaimed a hoarse voice, as the boys tumbled out on deck. “How in the name of all that’s good did you fellows get into that hold? Ain’t been stowing cargo, have you?”
The voice was that of the second mate, and his astonishment was ludicrous to behold. Behind him were two or three seamen, who also regarded the boys in open-mouthed wonder. They had been coming down to make everything shipshape in the hold.
“We’re not stowaways,” said Bobby, indignantly. “We were shanghaied on board this ship by a bunch of thugs. You can bet we’re not here because we want to be!”
“Well, I guess you’d better tell that to the captain and see what he says about it,” replied the second mate. “I’m thinkin’ he won’t be particularly overjoyed to see you on board his vessel, but then he’ll probably be able to find plenty for you to do. We’re short-handed.”
“What he wants us to do and what we do may be different things,” retorted Fred, his quick temper getting the better of his diplomacy.
The sailors snickered, and the second mate glared at them and then at Fred. No suitable retort occurring to him, however, he merely grunted and strode forward until they reached the bridge.
“Here’s a flock of stowaways we found down in the forward hold, Mr. Garrish,” he said. “They claim that they were shanghaied aboard. But, of course, that’s what they all say.”
“It’s the truth in this case though,” said Bobby, flushing at this slur on his honesty. “I wouldn’t say that, if it weren’t true.”
“How did you get aboard!” asked Captain Garrish, and then Bobby gave him a brief account of how they had been attacked by the bullies and carried out to the ship. The captain listened attentively, and seemed more inclined to accept his account than had the second mate.
“If what you tell me is true, I suppose I can’t blame you for it,” he said, eying them moodily. “But I certainly don’t need four passengers on this trip.”