"Why, you jumped off that there ship on purpose, 'cause me and my pardner seen you when you done it. We've been kinder looking for you ever since. We didn't go out after you, 'cause number 29's boat struck the water most as soon as you did."
"Who bunged your eyes for you?" asked the man who had not spoken before, and who was getting ready to give Roy a pot of hot coffee.
"Are they black?" said the boy angrily.
He glanced around the cabin, and seeing a small mirror fastened against the bulkhead on the other side, he walked over and looked into it. Yes, his eyes were black.
"The ship I deserted from was the White Squall," said Roy; whereupon the light-ship men nodded, as much as to say that the whole matter had been made clear to them. "I didn't belong to her. I was—what do you call it?—shanghaied? Yes; that was what was done to me, and also to the two men who started to row me from Shelly's Island to New London. One of the sailors told me I had better get off if I could see half a chance, and that was the way I came to be in the water. One of the mates knocked me down twice while I was working at the painter of our boat, and pounded me with a piece of rope till—well, look at that," added Roy, who, when he came to pull off his wet shirt, found that he could not do it without assistance. His arm pained him, and he could not use it as readily as usual. This led him to make an examination, and he found that the arm was bruised and discolored from shoulder to elbow.
"Yas," remarked one of the men, as if he were speaking of an every-day occurrence, "I've seen a good many such whacks in my time."
"Do all officers pound their men in this fashion, and do you fellows submit to it?" cried Roy, in great surprise. "Well, I won't, I bet you. I'll have those two men arrested; the captain for kidnapping me, and the mate for using me up in this way."
"Drink this coffee and tell us when you're going to do all that," said one of the men.
"Yas," said the other. "And while I am helping you rub them bruises with this arnica, tell us how you're going to do it."
"When and how?" repeated Roy, as he submitted to the old sea-dog's rough but kindly administrations.