The boat came alongside and the officers climbed over the rail. Captain Shorey welcomed them with a smile and elaborate courtesy and ushered them into the cabin. Slim was sent for.
"Tell 'em everything, Slim," we urged. "Give it to the captain hot and heavy. He's a brute and the revenue cutter men will take you off the brig as sure as shooting. They won't dare leave you aboard to lead a dog's life for the rest of the voyage."
"I'll show him up, all right," was Slim's parting shot.
Slim came back from the cabin a little later.
"I told 'em everything," he said. "They listened to everything I had to say and took down a lot of notes in a book. I asked 'em to take me off the brig right away, for, says I, Captain Shorey will kill me if they leave me aboard. I guess they'll take me off."
An hour later, the two officers of the Corwin emerged from the cabin, accompanied by Captain Shorey. They were puffing complacently at a couple of the captain's cigars. They seemed in high good humor. After shaking hands with Captain Shorey, they climbed down into their boat and were rowed back to their vessel. That was the last we ever saw of them. Poor Slim was left to his fate.
And his fate was a rough one. There was no outward change in the attitude of the captain or the officers of the brig toward him. Whenever they spoke to him, they did it with as much civility as they showed the rest of us. But Slim was compelled to work on deck all day and stand his regular night watches into the bargain. That meant he got eight hours sleep during twenty-four hours one day and four hours sleep during the next. As the ship was in whaling waters from now on, the crew had little to do except man the boats. But Slim always had plenty to do. While we smoked our pipes and lounged about, he was kept washing paint work, slushing down masts, scraping deck and knocking the rust off the anchors. Any one of a hundred and one little jobs that didn't need doing, Slim did. This continued until the brig squared her yards for the homeward voyage. Slim had more than three months of it. The Lord knows it was enough. When his nagging finally ended, he was a pale, haggard shadow of his former self. It almost killed him.