“Well, that’s some proof of what you say, my fine fellow,” continued the captain, as the doctor knelt down to examine poor Jimmy’s head and I fetched some water to bathe his face. “What did you do next?”
“Next? Let me see,” drawled Jack Penny; “what did I do next? Oh! I know. That chap was running away with the ship, and I took hold of that wheel thing and turned her round, so as to come back to you when you kept waving your cap.”
“Hah! yes. Well, what then?”
“Oh, the thing wanted oiling or greasing; it wouldn’t go properly. It got stuck fast, and the ship wouldn’t move; and then the storm came. I wish you wouldn’t bother so.”
“Well, I am blessed,” cried the captain staring. “I should have been proud to have been your father, my young hopeful. ’Pon my soul I should. You are a cool one, you are. You go and run the prettiest little schooner there is along the coast upon the rocks, and then you have the confounded impudence to look me in the face and tell me the rudder wants greasing and it stuck.”
“So it did!” cried Jack Penny indignantly. “Think I don’t know? I heard it squeak. You weren’t on board. The ship wouldn’t move afterwards.”
“Here, I say; which are you?” cried the captain; “a rogue or a fool?”
“I d’know,” said Jack coolly. “Father used to say I was a fool sometimes. P’r’aps I am. I say, though, if I were you I’d go and tie down that yaller Malay chap in the cabin. He’s as vicious as an old man kangaroo in a water-hole.”
“Your father’s wrong, my fine fellow,” said the captain with a grim smile; “you ar’n’t a fool, for a fool couldn’t give such good advice as that. Here, doctor, p’r’aps you’ll lend me one of your shooting things. You can get into your cabin; I can’t get into mine.”
The doctor nodded, and in the excitement of the time we forgot all about our drenched clothes as he went down and returned directly with his revolver, and another for the captain’s use.