And with that the mate and second mate departed up the after-cabin companion, so that they might look down upon the men from the height of the poop. As soon as they had reached that vantage place they found all hands except the Kanakas awaiting them. The mate said quietly, “Now then, men, what is it you want of me?”
The foremost replied quite respectfully, “We only want to ask you, sir, if you know anything about our getting some money and a liberty day. We’re sorry to bother you, sir, but we can’t get to see the skipper, and so we had to come and ask you.”
“Very well, men,” replied the mate, “you don’t want me to tell you that I’ve got nothing to do with your getting money or liberty; all I can say is that when the captain comes on board to-night, I’ll tell him about it, and you’ll see him in the morning before he goes ashore again.”
“Thankye, sir,” they responded, and went back to work quite cheerfully, so great was the respect and confidence that they had for and in the man that once they were ready to kill. Of course the boys, having heard all that had passed, held their consultation too, and determined that when the men had done with the captain they would have a slap at him, as Williams irreverently put it. But who could reverence such a man?
Sure enough when the skipper came on board that night Mr. Jenkins awaited him and told him of the men’s request; but he was too far gone in liquor to attend to anything that night. In the morning, though, the mate waited on him before breakfast and told him that the men were waiting to see him about liberty and money. He would have burst into a torrent of oaths and threats, but he was in mortal terror of his chief officer, and after vainly trying to make excuses for not meeting the men, at last consented, and rising, came on deck.
They were waiting for him, and gave in their request civilly. He, foolish man, began to bluster, but the men feeling that they had right on their side and that they would not now have the officers to reckon with, met his threats with equally high words, saying that if he did not give them their due, they refused to do any more. At which he laughed, and, turning on his heel, gave Mr. Jenkins orders to hoist the police-flag. This was at once done, and the men retreated forward and began to pack their clothes, not caring for the consequences, after the manner of sailors.
Then the mate, following the skipper as he returned to the cabin, said, “Captain Swainson, I want to remind you that I have not yet had a run ashore or any money from you, and whatever you choose to do in respect of the men does not concern me.”
The skipper stared at him for a moment, and after struggling to keep down the words he longed to utter, suddenly gasped out, “Oh, all right, Mr. Jenkins, I s’pose you’ll have to go; but I haven’t got any money, I’ll have to go ashore and get some. Order my boat at once.”
The mate smiled, and replied, “All right, sir; but won’t you wait for the police-boat you’ve ordered?”
“Oh no,” said the skipper, “you can see to that; send all the beggars ashore as mutineers. They refused to obey lawful commands, you know, and you got my orders to lock ’em up.”