We arrived just in time to meet Captain Howard and Hicks, who climbed up the ladder to starboard, and were on their way aft followed by Watkins, the steward.
Mr. Gull had already started to explain matters, and tell how he had been overpowered, but our formidable appearance caused the old fellow to draw his cutlass and stand on guard.
“What’s this mean? D’ye dare mutiny?” he roared, and it was some moments before Hawkson could explain that mutiny was our last thought, but that our principal desire was to meet the long trader and his crew. I was afraid I would suffer from suspicion in the affair, but Mr. Gull told how he sent me forward with his painter to make it fast in the mizzen, and nothing was said to me about the matter.
“Allen carried most of the specie ashore the day after we came in,” I heard Hicks say to Mr. Gull. “There was nothing of any value in that chest, but, as it’ll be dead calm all night, we’ll have a try at him to-morrow if he’s in sight. He won’t get far, and, if we only had all hands here, we could board him where he lays.”
Howard, after seeing that everything was all right aboard, and that Mr. Gull had brought a ton or more of goat meat, went below, while we rove a tackle and unloaded the stuff on deck, the men hurt in the fracas being allowed to turn in.
It was nearly midnight before the rest of us went into the forecastle, which now somewhat resembled a hospital, and I stretched out in my pew, wondering what would become of Mr. Curtis and Miss Allen if the barque sailed in the morning with our trader aboard.
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE CAPTAIN SHOWS HIS METTLE
Before the light of the early morning filtered below, we were aroused by the entrance of the liberty crew.
“Youst look at the mess,” cried Bill, staggering down the companion. “Jump below, friend Martin, an’ see the horsepittle they’ve made in this fo’c’sle.”
“Hoot, ye Scandinavian imp, is any one hurt? Mark ye, if there’s any fighting to be done, I’ll do it! Ye ken that? I’ll do it. I’ll do it.” And he followed Bill below, and after him trooped Big Jones, Ernest, and the rest. There was noise enough when we told our yarn of the evening before, and all except Anderson took a peep from the hatch seaward to try and raise the brig, which had cleared during the night. She was out of sight, however, and they came swarming below again, where the surly Swede was thanking the fates the barque had been robbed, and only mourned because none of her officers were killed or wounded.