And loosening his hold on Tad, the Frenchman bowed low, cap in hand, and shuffled off towards the town.
[CHAPTER XIX]
FAITHFUL PHIL
"COME you down into my cabin and tell me what's happened since you bolted from the 'Stormy Petrel' with that sneakin' rascal." And the honest sailor shook his huge fist at the retreating form of old Renard.
Then Tad followed the skipper into the tiny cabin, and there over a good breakfast told his story; told it exactly as things had happened—the whole truth without reserve. It was a relief now to disburden his heavy heart of what was oppressing him so sorely, and to ask for the advice and help of which he stood so urgently in need.
"You want to know what I think you'd best do?" asked Jeremiah as Tad finished his narrative.
"Yes, sir, and whatever you says now, I promise to do it," replied poor Tad. "All along I've been tryin' to choose and to get what I liked best, and I've done nothin' but kick agen pricks, just as you said to me. You see, I haven't forgot, sir."
"Well, Teddie Poole, things bein' as they are, and you in a pretty bad fix, my counsel to you is to send word by letter to the woman you call Marie that the kid is in hospital here, and also to write to your chum Phil as how you're sorry and all that, for what you done. And then—"
"Please, is this boat the 'Stormy Petrel,' and is Captain Jeremiah Jackson here?" called a sweet boyish voice down the companion way.
"Why, if that ain't Phil hisself!" cried Tad. "I'd know his voice in a thousand!" And jumping from his seat, he scrambled up on deck, and rushed straight into Phil's arms.