In the middle watch that night, Nickerson called Donald to him.
“How’re ye feelin’ naow, son? Warm enough these days?”
“Yes, sir! Thanks to you,” replied the boy.
The skipper puffed at his pipe and settled himself comfortably on the rail in his favorite angle. “Son,” he said, after a pause, “what d’ye plan to do when we reach Vancouver? Stick with the ship, eh?”
Donald nodded. “I’ll have to, sir. I can’t do anything else.”
“Ye don’t have to, son,” said the other quietly, “and ef you’ll take my advice, you won’t. This hooker ain’t fit to sail in. She’ll go to the bottom some of these days. Now, your uncle .... he’s a swine from ’way back and you’d be safer away from him and his ships. He don’t care a cuss for you—in fact, I know he hates you like poison. You’d better plan on skipping aout, sonny, when we get tied up to a Vancouver wharf. Whatever you do, don’t sail in this or any of your uncle’s ships.”
McKenzie was impressed with the Nova Scotian’s manner. Desert the ship? He had given the matter some thought before, but had dismissed the idea in his determination to serve his time and climb the ladder to command. “How about my future at sea, sir?” he enquired perplexed. “If I run away from the ship, how am I going to get on in my profession?”
“Do you want to go ahead in this rotten business?” exclaimed the captain earnestly. “What is there for a clever young nipper like you in the lime-juice merchant service these days? Why, boy, you’d make more money and have a better time of it on a Grand Bank fishing schooner. Aye! in the Canadian coasting trade, the skipper of a three-master’ll make more money than the brass-bound commander of many a big liner in the passenger trade! I’m telling you, son, and I don’t want you to spill it to your pals, that I’m not agoin’ to stay in this bally-hoo of blazes when she gits safely tied up. I’ve got friends in Vancouver and Victoria, and I’m goin’ into something on the Coast or else back home in Nova Scotia. I’ve had enough of this slavin’ and drivin’ and sailin’ ships with useless, spineless dock wallopers and sun-fish for crews.... Aye! I’m tired of it.... Howsomever, son, I’ve taken a shine to you, and ef you’ll follow me, I’ll take care of you, and I’ll guarantee in a few years you’ll be able to bring your mammy aout to Canada an’ live happily ever after as the story-books say.”
Donald nodded. “It sounds good, sir. I’ll think over it, and I thank you for your kindness.”