“It’s none o’ my business, Naboth,” said my father, turning away with a frown; “I don’t like passengers, but you an’ Sam can do as you please. Only, if you take him, keep him out o’ my way.”
Uncle winked at me, and I knew the passenger would be booked.
Work of loading the cargo progressed rapidly, and in two days the bales of rugs were all aboard and carefully stowed in our dry and ample hold. Then the Yankee antiques for Egypt appeared for loading, and with them came a youth whose appearance caused me to smile involuntarily.
“Archibald Ackley, Jr., Middletown, Conn.,” his cards read. He was a stocky, well built fellow about seventeen years of age, although he evidently wished to appear much older. He had sharp gray eyes, lanky hair of light tow color, immense hands and feet, a swaggering gait, and a style of dress gay enough to rival the plumage of a bird-of-paradise.
Archibald’s features might have been handsome originally, but a swiftly pitched base-ball had once ruthlessly pushed his generous nose against his left cheek, and there it had remained.
The youth sported a heavy watchchain that was palpably plated, a big “diamond” on his cravat that perhaps came from the famous “Barrios mines,” of New York, and his fingers were loaded with rings of vast proportions set with doubtful gems. It may be Mr. Ackley, Jr., imagined himself an exquisite, and sought to impress people by a display of wealth that may have cost him or his father several dollars; but, as I said, my first glimpse of his gorgeous person caused me to smile—an impertinence I quickly tried to repress.
Mr. Perkins and I considered carefully the young man’s request for a passage to Egypt, and as we had ample accommodations we decided to take him along; but when he came for his answer and I caught sight of him for the first time, I almost regretted our decision.
Uncle Naboth, however, seemed not to be disagreeably impressed. He shook the boy’s hand—it was a “flipper,” all right—with cordial greeting and said to him:
“Very good, Archie, my lad; we’ve talked it over an’ you can go ’long ef so be you want to. But remember this is a merchantman, an’ no passenger ship, an’ make up your mind to abide by Cap’n Steele’s rules an’ reggleations.”
“That’s fair,” said the boy, evidently pleased. “I’m not likely to bother any one. All I want is a berth to sleep in and three square meals a day. How’s the feed?”