"He never luff up on you now so long as you stay aboard dis schooner. He get wusser every day, an' de fus' thing you know you find yourself overboard. Boy, you'd bes' cl'ar yourself."
"That's just what I am determined to do," answered Tony, in the same cautious whisper. "How far are we from Havana?"
"We oughter to be dar to-morrer," replied Mr. Sands. "Now, I'll tell you what's a fac': I allers have to go ashore arter de grub, an' I'll take you along to help me tote it. If you shouldn't come back wid me, I wouldn't blame you."
As the cook said this, he winked at his assistant, who tried to respond in the same way; but he didn't succeed very well.
Tony's face would have excited the sympathy of anybody but a brutal mate. The one who had given him the blow, called upon him just as often, and expected just as much of him, as he would if the boy had been in good working condition. His creed was, that so long as a foremast hand was able to stand upon his feet, he was able to do duty; and more than that, he must attend to it or take the consequences. Tony succeeded in escaping further punishment, and it was well for him that he did so, for another blow like that might have settled the business for him for ever.
The next morning at eight o'clock, the Princeton was made fast to a jetty in the harbor of Havana, where she was to remain two or three days, or until she had discharged a portion of her cargo and taken on some more which she had been chartered to carry to Rio.
As soon as she was fairly in her berth and everything had been made snug, the doctor and his assistant made ready to go ashore—or rather the doctor did, for when Tony was about to descend into the forecastle to change his clothing, the first mate, who was always around when he was not wanted, ordered him back.
"I want to put on my shore rig," said Tony. "The captain told me to go ashore with the doctor."
"All right," was the reply. "Go as you are."
"Ay, ay, sir! I wonder if he knows what I am going to do, and if he thinks the want of good clothes will keep me from deserting this miserable craft?" thought the boy. "If he does, he doesn't know Tony Richardson. I will go with the first vessel that leaves this port for New Orleans, if I have to hang on to the rudder."