“May I ask what is the trouble here, sir?” asked the yard's owner.
“The trouble is,” replied Mr. Mayhew, “that your enterprising boy pilot has run us aground—hard, tight and fast!”
Jacob Farnum glanced swiftly at his young captain. Jack shook his head briefly in dissent. Jacob Farnum, with full confidence in his young man, at once understood that there was more yet to be learned.
“Come up on the bridge, sir, if you will,” requested the commander of the gunboat, who was a man of too good breeding to wish any dispute before the men of the crew. “You may come, too, Benson.”
Jack followed the others, including the engineer officer of the “Hudson.” Yet Benson was clenching his hands, fighting a desperate battle to get full command over himself. It was hard—worse than hard—to be unjustly accused.
Jacob Farnum wished to keep on the pleasantest terms with these officers of the Navy. At the same time he was man enough to feel determined that Jack, whether right or wrong, should have a full chance to defend himself.
[pg 042] “I understand, sir,” began Mr. Farnum, “that you attach some blame in this matter to young Benson?”
“Perhaps he is not to be blamed too much, on account of his extreme youth,” responded Mr. Mayhew.
“Forget his youth altogether,” urged Mr. Farnum. “Let us treat him as a man. I've always found him one, in judgment, knowledge and loyalty. Do you mind telling me, sir, in what way he erred in bringing you in here?”
“An error in giving his advice,” replied Mr. Mayhew. “Or else it was ignorance of how to handle a craft as large as this gunboat. For my anchorage he told me—”