“’Ow came ’e fer t’ git on ’Ood Hisland?” queried Mitchell.
“Why, I jumped overboard and swam ashore,” said Ray.
“And it was some swim,” supplemented Jack enthusiastically.
“Han’ ye crossed ’e’s bow t’ day over in Haustin’s Pool?” queried Mitchell, looking astern.
“Yes, and we had to run like the dickens to shake him. Is his boat anywhere in sight— Gee, he’s following us all right? That’s his sail, way back there. Oh, Mr. Mitchell, please get us to the island first. I can’t go back with him. I can’t.”
“Tut, tut, lad, we’ve a flyin’ start hon ’im, an’ hif we don’t out-run ’im, big as ’e is, wi—wi—well, we’ll do hit. An’ as fer you bein’ aferd o’ turnin’ hout a ‘good-for-nothin’ es you say, wi’ I think as ’ow ’e might o’ become one o’ them air things hif ye’d stayed wi ’im. Floggins an’ rope hend ain’t good hif a feller gits ’em too hoften. Why, lads, look o’ me. I ain’t a ‘good-fer-nothin’ no more are I a lofer er a lobster pirut er a bloomin’ sea lawyer, an’ I ain’t ’ad no re-elatives t’ lean hupon since I was passin’ ten.”
“Tell us about yourself,” said Jack, who had always been curious to know the old seaman’s past.
“Why, now they ain’t much t’ tell,” said the lobsterman, after his usual preliminary of spitting over the rail. “They ain’t much t’ tell, seein’ as ’ow when I was but knee ’igh t’ a water butt me daddy was lost wi’ a hull trawlin’ crew hin t’ North Sea. Then I became an horphant an’ wi’hout one relative, seein’ as ’ow me mother ’ad died when I was a toddler.
“The folks as I was livin’ wi’ didn’t hexpect no more board money fer me as was paid by me daddy when ’e was alivin’ an’ they jest turned me hout t’ a free farm which ain’t no com’f’table place fer a yonker.
“Seein’ as ’ow things was as they was I hups an’ runs awi, sterin’ a course fer Lonnon. But on me wi I finds an’ hole salt, naime o’ Jem Banks, an’ ’e bein’ a ’arty hole salt as is hin t’ sarvice, ’e takes a likin’ o’ me an’ says, says ’e, ‘’Ere, lad, they’re a needin’ of a cabin-boy aboard t’ Bull’ark. Why don’t ’e come along o’ me an’ sign pipers?’