XXV
A CAPITAL CRIME
“You never set eyes on old Skipper Jim, did you, Skipper Billy?” Docks began, later, that night. “No? Well, he was a wonderful hard man. They says the devil was abroad the night of his bornin’; but I’m thinkin’ that Jagger o’ Wayfarer’s Tickle had more t’ do with the life he lived than ever the devil could manage. ’Twas Jagger that owned the Sink or Swim; ’twas he that laid the courses—ay, that laid this last one, too. Believe me, sir,” now turning to Doctor Luke, who had uttered a sharp exclamation, “for I knowed Jagger, an’ I sailed along o’ Skipper Jim. ‘Skipper Jim,’ says I, when the trick we played was scurvy, ‘this here ain’t right.’ ‘Right?’ says he. ‘Jagger’s gone an’ laid that word by an’ forgot where he put it.’ ‘But you, Skipper Jim,’ says I, ‘you; what you doin’ this here for?’ ‘Well, Docks,’ says he, ‘Jagger,’ says he, ‘says ’tis a clever thing t’ do, an’ I’m thinkin’,’ says he, ‘that Jagger’s near right. Anyhow,’ says he, ‘Jagger’s my owner.’”
Doctor Luke put his elbows on the forecastle table, his chin on his hands—and thus gazed, immovable, at young Docks.
“Skipper Jim,” the lad went on, “was a lank old man, with a beard that used t’ put me in mind of a dead shrub on a cliff. Old, an’ tall, an’ skinny he was; an’ the flesh of his face was sort o’ wet an’ whitish, as if it had no feelin’. They wasn’t a thing in the way o’ wind or sea that Skipper Jim was afeard of. I like a brave man so well as anybody does, but I haven’t no love for a fool; an’ I’ve seed him beat out o’ safe harbour, with all canvas set, when other schooners was reefed down an’ runnin’ for shelter. Many a time I’ve took my trick at the wheel when the most I hoped for was three minutes t’ say my prayers.
“‘Skipper, sir,’ we used t’ say, when ’twas lookin’ black an’ nasty t’ win’ard an’ we was wantin’ t’ run for the handiest harbour, ‘’tis like you’ll be holdin’ on for Rocky Cove. Sure, you’ve no call t’ run for harbour from this here blow!’
“‘Stand by that mainsheet there!’ he’d yell. ‘Let her off out o’ the wind. We’ll be makin’ for Harbour Round for shelter. Holdin’ on, did you say? My dear man, they’s a whirlwind brewin’!’
“But if ’twas blowin’ hard—a nor’east snorter, with the gale raisin’ a wind-lop on the swell, an’ the night comin’ down—if ’twas blowin’ barb’rous hard, sometimes we’d get scared.
“‘Skipper,’ we couldn’t help sayin’, ‘’tis time t’ get out o’ this. Leave us run for shelter, man, for our lives!’