Captain Hill upon this looked at the fragments of the unfortunate ship, and for the first time took in what had happened.
“It doesn’t matter,” said he, after a brief pause, “I am in command here, and”—here he interpolated an oath—“I don’t allow any interference with my authority.”
“You are not captain of Mr. Clinton’s trunk,” said Harry, in a spirited tone. “Jack, let us carry it along.”
This was too much for the captain. With a look of fury on his face, he dashed toward Harry, and there is no doubt that our hero was in serious danger. He paled slightly, for he knew he was no match for the tall, sinewy captain, and was half regretting his independence when he felt himself drawn forcibly to one side, and in his place stood the mate, sternly eyeing the infuriated captain.
“What do you want to do, Captain Hill?” he asked.
“To crush that young viper!” shouted the captain, fiercely.
“You shall not harm a hair of his head!”
By this time the captain’s wrath had been diverted to the mate. He struck out with his right hand, intending to fell him to the ground, but, the mate swerving, he fell from the force of his abortive blow, and, being under the influence of his morning potations, could not immediately rise.
“Boys,” said Mr. Holdfast, “you may take hold of the trunk again and go on with it. Don’t be afraid. If the captain makes any attempt to assault you, he will have me to deal with.”
Harry and Jack did as directed. Jack, however, could not help feeling a little nervous, his old fear of the captain asserting itself. But Harry, confident in the protection of his good friend, the mate, was quite unconcerned.