“What the dickens do ye mean, man?” said the captain, angry at the mystification. “I don’t know of any Joe Fergusson or any new hands save those I brought on board myself at Gravesend; and there was no one of that name amongst ’em, I’m certain.”
“Aye, aye, thrue for ye, cap’en,” answered Tim, and although, of course, I couldn’t see him, I’m sure he must have winked when he spoke, there was a tone of such rich jocularity in his voice; “but, sure, sor this is the chap as brought himsilf aboard. He’s the stowaway, sorr; Joe Fergusson, by the same token!”
Chapter Ten.
Crossing the Line.
“Humph!” grunted Captain Gillespie, astounded by this information. “That’s the joker, is it?”
“Aye, aye, sorr,” said Tim Rooney, thinking he was asked the question again as to the other’s identity; “it’s him, sure enough.”
“Then I should like to know what the dickens he means by such conduct as this? The beggar first comes aboard my ship without my leave or license, and then tries to break his neck by going aloft when nobody sent him there!”
“Arrah sure, sorr, the poor chap ownly did it to show his willin’ness to worruk his passige, sayin’ as how Mr Mackay tould him ye’d blow him up for comin’ aboard whin he came-to this arternoon, sorr,” pleaded Tim, not perceiving, as I did, that all the captain’s anger against the unfortunate stowaway had melted away by this time on learning that he had shown such courage. “Begorra, he would cloimb up the shrouds, sorr, whin ye tould the hands to lay aloft; an’ the divil himsilf, sorr, wouldn’t ’a stopped him.”