In Which We Learn the Particulars of the Wreck of the Galland
Captain Joe Bowditch smiled down broadly at me from the poop as I leaped to the deck; but when he saw the burden in my arms his countenance changed queerly.
“What in the name o’ goodness you got there?” he barked.
“A little girl, Captain Bowditch,” I replied.
“A little—well! what d’ye think o’ that?” he gasped, waddling down the ladder. “Ye didn’t git that aboard the Seamew? Nor out o’ the ocean when ye went overboard, neither?”
“No, sir,” said Mr. Barney, who had followed me. “She is what we found in that drifting boat—part of what we found, at least.”
“A gal! Moses ter Moses, and all hands around!” groaned the captain. “Whatever will we do with a gal aboard the Gullwing?”
“I don’t see how we could have left her there, Captain,” laughed Mr. Barney.
“Now, don’t ye cackle!” snapped the old man. “Why didn’t you leave her for Cap’n Si? He’s a man that’s more used to female children than I be. Why, Cap’n Si’s sister married a man whose brother got spliced to a widder woman that had twin gal babies. He’s more fitten to take such a responsibility than what I be.”
He looked as though he thought he had proved his case, too. But I was too much worried over the condition of the pretty creature in my arms to pay much attention to his growling.