“Wind and weather permittin’,” growled the captain. “Well, what then?”
“Have you completed your crew?” asked the stranger.
“Nearly. What then?” replied the captain with a touch of ferocity, for he felt sensations of an approaching paroxysm.
“Will you engage me?” asked Philosopher Jack, for it was he.
“In what capacity?” demanded the captain somewhat sarcastically.
“As an ordinary seaman—or a boy if you will,” replied Edwin, with a smile.
“No,” growled Samson, decisively, “I won’t engage you; men with kid gloves and white hands don’t suit me.”
From the mere force of habit the young student had pulled on his gloves on leaving his lodging, and had only removed that of the right hand on entering the captain’s dwelling. He now inserted a finger at the wrist of the left-hand glove, ripped it off, and flung it with its fellow under the grate. Thereafter he gathered some ashes and soot from the fireplace, with which he put his hands on a footing with those of a coal-heaver.
“Will you take me now, captain?” he said, returning to the hammock, and spreading out his hands.
The captain gave vent to a short laugh, which brought on a tremendous fit, at the conclusion of which he gasped, “Yes, my lad, p’r’aps I will; but first I must know something about you.”