“Nothin’, sir,” answered Danny, “’cep’ I’m ready to go, sir, whenever you are.”
“What do you mean?” said Paul Jones, looking closely at the boy.
“Why, sir, ain’t I a-goin’ with you on the Providence?” replied Danny, in a surprised voice. “When I heard you had done got your orders, I went and made up my kit. Mr. Green, the quartermaster, come along, sir, and he says you axed for him to go with you, and that you had said you was goin’ to make me a boatswain’s mate, and for me to git my kit. I wanted to go with you anyhow, sir, though I didn’t expect to be nothin’ but a ship’s boy; but when you axed for me—”
The boy’s simplicity was so genuine that Paul Jones could not laugh at him. He only said, smiling a little:
“Very well. Green is to be my quartermaster, and I’ll see the captain, and perhaps he may let me have you.”
“Thankee, sir,” replied Danny gratefully, and sitting down outside the cabin door he kept his earnest eyes fixed on Paul Jones, like a dog on his master. Presently Paul Jones came out, and after a few words with the captain, Danny was told that he might go along with the new commander of the Providence. Paul Jones was touched by the boy’s devotion, and took him for the captain’s cabin boy.
Paul Jones had good reason to be satisfied with all the people he had brought from the Alfred. Bill Green, besides being a first-class quartermaster, was such a pleasant, cheery, waggish fellow that he kept everything forward in a good humor. Moreover, he had a very valuable talent—he could sing beautifully, and had a store of sea songs, some of which he had picked up in the British navy, where he had served some time, and others were patriotic songs which were often composed and much sung in those days. But Bill had a weakness—he always professed to have composed all his songs himself, and to have written them out, when it was a well-known fact that he could not write a word. He had signed the ship’s books with a cross instead of his name, which he explained by saying: “The officer, he was in a hurry, and it was gittin’ on toward my watch, and I didn’t have no half hour to spend writin’ ‘Bill Green,’ so I jest made a cross mark, not thinkin’ as how nobody would suspicion I couldn’t write; and then, it takes so much o’ my time to write my songs, I ain’t got none for to write my name.” All this was received with many sly winks by the men, but they were willing to humor the handsome quartermaster in anything, he was such a favorite with them. Bill, also, like other artists, liked to be urged. This, too, was fully understood, and he always yielded to pressure.
The Providence was a good sailer, but she carried only twelve small guns and seventy men. She was employed in transporting men and stores along the shores at the eastern entrance of Long Island Sound, and as this was done in the face of overwhelming British fleets, the address and seamanship of young Captain Jones was fully proved. So great was his success in eluding the British, that the Cerberus frigate made it an especial object to capture the little sloop. She got the Providence under her guns several times, but the sloop always managed to edge away. Once, while the Providence was convoying a brig loaded with military supplies for General Washington, the Cerberus caught sight of her and crowded on sail to overhaul her. Captain Jones signaled to the brig to get out of the way as fast as possible, while he manœuvred with studied awkwardness in sight of the Cerberus. On came the powerful frigate to crush the little sloop, but as soon as Paul Jones saw the brig safe, he made for shoal water, where the frigate dared not follow him, and escaped as night came on.
Early in August he was regularly commissioned as captain, and sailed for the Bermudas, on his first independent cruise. By that time the officers and men under him had come to know what manner of man he was, and looked forward to a glorious cruise with him.
It was characteristic of Paul Jones to make the best of all his opportunities, and he managed out of a feeble sloop to make an efficient and fast-sailing cruiser. He trimmed the ship so that she sailed well both on and off the wind, and he was thus in condition either to fight or run away, whichever he chose.