BILLY MAYES’ GREAT DISCOVERY
Captain Ezra Blake, seated on the edge of the deck-house of the little schooner Molly and Kate, was trying to do two things at once. He was superintending the unloading of ballast by a crew of four men and a boy and he was answering the questions of Billy Mayes, who sat beside him. Billy was twelve and Captain Ezra was almost five times twelve, but they were great cronies. The Molly and Kate was tied up to Forster’s Wharf only last evening, and already, this being a Saturday morning, Billy was on hand to hear what wonderful adventures had befallen his friend on the latest voyage. The Molly and Kate carried lumber to fascinating Southern ports like Charleston and Savannah and Jacksonville and even, less frequently, Havana, and never a voyage but what Captain Ezra returned with a new budget of marvelous tales for Billy’s delight. Some day Billy was going to sail with the Captain and see the astounding places and things with his own two very blue eyes: see Charleston and Cape Hatteras and the Sea Islands and Florida. But more especially he would visit Pirate Key, for it was on Pirate Key that the Captain met with his very startlingest adventures. Billy had never been able to find Pirate Key on any map, but, as the Captain explained, it wasn’t very big and few mariners even knew of its existence. Somewhere between the Marquesas and the Dry Tortugas it lay, and beyond that the Captain declined to commit himself: which, under the circumstances, Billy considered quite proper, for it seemed that the natives of Pirate Key were a peculiarly sensitive people and much averse to visitors and publicity. Even the Captain, with his winning personality, had had much difficulty in becoming friends with the inhabitants of the island. The first time he had tried to land on it, many years ago, he and his crew had been fired on with poisoned arrows. Captain Ezra could still point out the dents made by the arrows on the old blue dory that trailed astern there. The Captain, with one mild gray eye on the crew, had just finished a soul-stirring account of the hurricane that had met them off the South Carolina coast on their northward trip, and Billy was still glowing with pride at the thought of knowing so intimately a person of such nautical skill and personal bravery, for, although the Captain hadn’t said so in so many words, it was very plain that only heroism and remarkable seamanship had brought the Molly and Kate safely through great peril, when “Long Joe” Bowen, shoveling sand nearby, was conquered by a perfectly terrible spasm of coughing and choking. Captain Ezra viewed him silently for a moment and then inquired mildly:
“Been an’ swallered some o’ that sand, Joe?”
“Long Joe” nodded and said “Yes, sir,” in a very husky voice.
“Mm, well you want to be more careful,” advised the Captain most sympathetically, “’cause if you ain’t I’m likely to have to swab out your throat for you, an’ that’s a remarkably painful operation, Joe.”
There was no response to this, but Billy could see “Long Joe’s” shoulders heaving and knew that he must already be in much pain. Billy, like his friend the Captain, had a very sympathetic nature. When the sufferer appeared to be easier Billy looked up again at the Captain’s seamed and ruddy countenance and asked:
“Did you get to Pirate Key this time, sir?”
“Pirate Key?” responded the Captain. “Oh, yes, we were there a couple o’ days. Not on business, but you see I’d promised the King I’d drop in on him the next time I was down around there. Seein’ as he leads a kind o’ lonely life, an’ him an’ me bein’ particular friends, as you might say, I didn’t have the heart to say no to him.”
“Was he quite well?” asked Billy politely.
“Pretty smart for an old fellow. You see, Billy, he’s—let me see—why, he must be well over a hundred now.”