CHAPTER XI.
THE BOARDING-HOUSE.
“OH, FLINT!” exclaimed Guy, running to meet the sailor, “you don’t know how glad I am to see you. I have had a narrow escape, I tell you. I just got away from an officer who captured Bob by the skin of my teeth.”
With this introduction Guy began the story of his recent adventure, to which his companion listened with all his ears. He was surprised as well as delighted to hear what had happened to Bob Walker, and hastened to calm the fears of his young friend by assuring him that as long as he followed in his (Flint’s) wake he was in no danger. In the first place, he would take him where no detective would ever think of looking for him; and in the second, they would remain in the city but a day or two at the very furthest, and by the time Boyle could go to Saginaw and back, they would be on their way to Liverpool and safe from pursuit.
Flint fulfilled the first part of his promise by conducting Guy to a sailors’ boarding-house in an obscure street, where they ate supper and took lodgings for the night. After breakfast the next morning they set out in company to call upon the agent, whose business it was to ship the crew that was to man the schooner during her voyage to Liverpool. They found him at his office, and after listening to some astonishing stories from Flint, who declared that Guy understood his business as cabin-boy, having just been discharged from the propeller Queen of the Lakes, where he had served in that capacity for the last two months, the agent was finally induced to add the boy’s name to the shipping articles and pay him his advance. Then, after a visit to a cheap clothing store, where Flint purchased an outfit for Guy, they returned to the boarding-house and thence made their way to their vessel, the Ossipee, which was almost ready to sail.
During the first part of the voyage Guy had but little to complain of. Although he was kept busy all the time, his duties were comparatively light, the officers were kind, the food abundant and well cooked, and the weather mild and agreeable. Guy even begun to think that a career on the ocean-wave was, after all, very pleasant and desirable, and sometimes had serious thoughts of abandoning his idea of becoming a hunter and spending the remainder of his days upon the water. But even a sailor’s life has its dark side, as he discovered when they reached the Gulf of St. Lawrence. During a violent gale the schooner sprung a leak, and from that time until she reached a port in Nova Scotia, into which she put for repairs, Guy never once closed his eyes in sleep. He was kept at the pumps until every bone and muscle in his body ached with fatigue, and when relieved from them it was only to perform some other duty equally laborious. It was all the crew could do to keep the schooner afloat, and for five long, dreary days Guy stood face to face with death in one of its most appalling shapes.
And what a change that storm made in the disposition of every man on board! The officers raved and swore, and hastened obedience to their orders by threatening to knock the men overboard with handspikes and belaying pins. Guy, bewildered by the confusion and noise, and frightened almost out of his senses by the danger he was in, was forever getting into somebody’s way, and of course came in for the lion’s share of abuse. He was kicked and cuffed every hour in the day and pushed about as if he had no more feeling than the freight which was so unceremoniously thrown overboard. Once the mate ordered him to “lay for’d and lend a hand at the jib down-haul,” and while Guy was looking about to see which way to go, the officer picked up a rope and brought it down across his shoulders with a sounding whack. It might have fared hard with Guy then had not Flint, who happened to overhear the order, saved him from further punishment by hurrying forward and executing it for him.
Port was reached at last, and we can imagine how relieved Guy was and with what feelings of delight he listened to the speech the captain made to the crew, in which he informed them that the vessel was so badly damaged that she must go into the dry-docks again and that the hands were to be discharged with three months’ pay. He packed up his dunnage with great alacrity, and as he followed Flint over the side, declared that he had seen enough of salt water to last him as long as he lived, and that the rest of his life should be on shore.
“Why, you haven’t seen anything of a sailor’s life yet,” said his companion. “I know we’ve had rather a rough time for the last week, but that’s nothing. Of course one must work if he goes to sea, and so he must if he follows any other business. You’ll see better times when you are once fairly afloat.”
“But just look at the danger,” said Guy.