Ching took me into his cabin once, a strange kind of barn, half Chinese and half English, with two old faded photographs hanging on the bulkheads, one of the Inflexible and the other of her Mids, Ching in the middle, and Lawrence, a fat little chubby-faced youth, by his side.
I often chaffed Lawrence about that photo—he looked so angelic.
CHAPTER V
Midshipman Ford's First Command
The Junk—H.M.S. "Sally"—"Here's Luck to the 'Sally'"—Ready to Start—Under Way—In Command—Night at Sea—The Strange Junk
Written by Midshipman Ford
If anybody had told me a week ago that by this time I should be captain of my own ship, I should have called him a blithering Ananias, and probably punched his head if he was anything like my size, and made him jolly sorry for trying to pull my leg.
But there it is. I am the captain of the Sally, converted junk, two guns, tender to H.M.S. Ringdove, and who, do you think, is my first lieutenant? Why, Dicky Morton, "Dear Little Dicky" of all chaps in the world, and he's turning out not to be half such a silly fool as he looks—I often tell him so, just to buck him up.
I must tell you how it all happened.
The Captain had found out that those war junks never cruised at all, simply hid round a corner out of sight, and as he depended a great deal on them for news of the pirates, he was simply furious when he heard of it, and sent ashore and bought six of the biggest merchant junks.