“I can’t advise you to stay here any longer than you can help, for you ain’t stout enough to bear what you’ll have to take from the captain. It’ll be hard work to get off, for he always looks sharp after new boys, so they sha’n’t run away; but when we get back here again you’d better make up your mind to show your heels.”
These words frightened Tim almost as much as what the captain had said to him, for he had never thought but that he could leave whenever he wanted to. Now he felt doubly wretched, for he realized that he was as much a captive as he had ever been when he lived with Captain Babbige, whose blows were not nearly as severe as this new master’s.
The Pride of the Wave made but two trips a week, and each one occupied about two days and a half. This second day after Tim had come on board was the time of her sailing, and everything was in such a state of confusion that no one had any time to notice the sad little boy, who ran forward to pet his dog whenever his work would permit of such loving act.
Among his duties was that of answering the captain’s bell, and once, when he returned from a visit to Tip, Mr. Rankin told him, with evident fear, that it had been nearly five minutes since he was summoned to the wheel-house.
While the steward was speaking the bell rung again with an angry peal that told that the party at the other end was in anything but a pleasant mood. It did not take Tim many seconds to run to the wheel-house, and when he arrived there, breathless and in fear, Captain Pratt met him at the door.
“So the lesson I gave you this morning wasn’t enough, eh?” cried the angry man, as he seized Tim by the collar and actually lifted him from his feet. “I’ll teach you to attend to business, and not try to come any odds over me.”
Captain Pratt had a stout piece of rope in one hand, and as he held Tim by the other, nearly choking him, he showered heavy blows upon the poor boy’s back and legs till his arm fairly ached.
“Now see if you will remember that!” he cried, as he released his hold on Tim’s collar, and the poor child rolled upon the deck almost helpless.
Tim had fallen because the hold on his neck had been so suddenly released, rather than on account of the beating; and when he struggled to his feet, smarting from the blows, the captain said to him: