One day—it was about a month after they left port—Captain Hill came up on deck in one of his worst fits of intoxication. All the passengers were on deck, it being a fair day. They regarded the captain with alarm, for in his hand he held a pistol, which he carried in such careless style that it might be discharged at any time.
Jack Pendleton had been sent up to the masthead on some duty by the mate. The captain’s roving eyes fell upon him, and the dislike he felt for the boy found vent.
“What are you doing up there, you young lubber?” he shouted.
“Mr. Holdfast sent me,” answered Jack.
“You lie!” roared the captain. “I’ll teach you to lie to me!”
“I’ll come down, sir,” said Jack, “if you say so.”
“I’ll bring you down!” shouted the captain, furiously, as he deliberately pointed the pistol at the cabin boy, and prepared to pull the trigger.
There was a cry of horror on the part of the passengers as they saw the insane act of the captain, and realized the peril of poor Jack. But, in spite of all, the boy would probably have fallen a victim to the drunken fury of Captain Hill. Jack himself fully understood his danger, and his ruddy face turned pale. His life hung in the balance, and was saved only by the courage of his boy friend, Harry.
Of all the passengers, Harry stood nearest to the captain. When he saw the pistol pointed at Jack, he did not stop to think, but made a bound, and dashed the weapon from the captain’s hand. It was discharged but the bullet sped over the rail and dropped into the ocean. Nor did Harry stop here. He seized the fallen pistol, and hurled it over the side of the vessel.
The captain was for the moment stupefied by the suddenness of the act. Then, in a voice of fury, he exclaimed, pointing to Harry: “Put that boy in irons!”