This advice, although it was the same as that given by Bobby, was followed at once, because it came from a semi-official source, and in a few moments afterward Tim was groaning in his berth, while Bobby sat by his side, and tried to persuade him to partake of some of the candy he had bought just before leaving port.
Tim refused the offering, and for the first time in his life looked upon candy as the stickiest kind of a fraud. He felt as though the kindest thing any one could do would be to throw him overboard in the midst of that treacherous sea which was causing him so much internal commotion.
He had been in his berth about an hour, although it seemed to him fully a week, when Mr. Rankin came into the forecastle, and told him that Captain Pratt had given positive and angrily issued orders that he be brought on deck.
A moment before, Tim would have thought it impossible for him to move, and felt that he would not be frightened by a dozen Captain Pratts; but the instant Mr. Rankin spoke, the thoughts of that whipping, the smart of which could still be felt, was sufficient to give him strength to make the attempt.
Staggering to his feet, encouraged by the kind-hearted steward, who pitied him sincerely, he crawled up the narrow companion-way, shuddering as he went, and catching his breath in sickness and fear at each lurch of the steamer.
Bobby, who was awed into silence by the fear of the captain which he saw plainly written on the faces of Mr. Rankin and Tim, would have gone with his friend at least a portion of the way, if Tim had not motioned him back. If he was to be whipped for being sick, he very much preferred that his new friend should not witness the punishment.
It was with the greatest difficulty he managed to keep on his feet as he staggered along the deck to the wheel-house, and just as he reached there, and had opened the door, a sudden lurch of the steamer sent him spinning into the room headlong.
It was unfortunate that Captain Pratt was sitting directly opposite the door, smoking, for he was directly in the way of Tim when the steamer shot him into the wheel-house like a stone from a sling, and the boy’s head struck with no gentle force full on the chest of his irritable employer.
The mildest-mannered man would have been provoked if a boy, even no larger than Tim, had been thrown at him in this way, and Captain Pratt, always ill-tempered, had all his ire aroused by the blow that very nearly took away his breath.
As soon as he recovered from the effects of the blow he seized Tim, who had continued on his flight until he landed, a forlorn little specimen, in one corner of the room, and shook him as a cat shakes a mouse after she has had a long chase to catch him.