My men had given up the contest, but I had not. A single glance at Mr. Ben Waterford was enough to nerve my arm for anything. But really there was nothing that I could do, except to fight an insane battle with the certainty of defeat.
"Well, Farringford, I didn't think you were such a chicken," said Captain Farraday, with an obvious sneer on his face.
"I have concluded not to go in the Michigan," I replied, very much crestfallen.
"Have you? Well, as you have signed the papers, I have concluded that you shall go in the Michigan. I don't back out myself, and don't mean to let others do so."
"Won't you let me off?" I asked, willing to try what fair words could do.
"Can't do it, my hearty. The fact is, I took a fancy to you when we first met, and I can't afford to part company with you so soon."
"Nor I, either," added Ben Waterford. "I have sailed with Phil before, and I know he will make a good sailor. He has the regular sea swash about him. Come, Phil, come into this boat, and don't waste time."
"I shall never go to sea with you, if I can help it," I replied, looking about me for the means of doing something to redeem myself from my fate.
"That's just the point; you can't help it. You have signed the articles, and you are sold to the Michigan for this voyage," added Ben.
"Come along, Farringford. I find the new mate is a man after my own heart," said the captain.