“Well, I’ve written it, and can’t scratch it out now,” said Tom. “It will come to the same thing in the end.”
Bill had some doubts whether Tom’s father would make the allowance Tom asked for; but if he were a rich man, as Tom asserted, he might do so, and therefore he said nothing.
The letter, after being folded several times and creased all over, was at length closed, sealed, and addressed, by which time it had assumed a somewhat grimy appearance. Tom got the cook’s mate, who was going on shore, to post his letter, having told him that he expected to receive a good sum of money by return, and promising him a part of the proceeds. Bill and Jack looked forward to the reply with almost as much interest as Tom himself, neither of them feeling that they should be at all jealous, should it produce the satisfactory result he anticipated.
Meantime, every possible exertion was made to get the ship ready for sea. Mr Saltwell was very busy superintending all the operations. Bill, however, found that he was not forgotten, from a kind word or two which on several occasions the first lieutenant bestowed upon him. As Tom was not aware of this, he amused himself by telling Bill that Mr Saltwell would not trouble himself more about him—that he must be content to remain a powder monkey until he got big enough to be rated as an ordinary seaman.
“Better than being cook’s boy,” cried Jack, who could never stand hearing Bill sneered at. “He’s a precious deal more likely to be made a midshipman than you are, even though your father is a rich man and rides in his carriage, as you say.”
Tom retorted, and Jack looked as if he was much inclined to knock him over, when the quarrel was cut short by the appearance of the cook’s mate, who dragged off Tom to help him clean the galley and scrub the pots and pans.
Day after day went by. The frigate was reported ready for sea, and her complement of men having been filled up, she only waited for her captain to come on board to continue her cruise.
Still Tom had received no reply from his father. “Perhaps he or the Admiralty may have written to the captain, and when he comes aboard I shall be placed in my proper position,” he observed in confidence to Bill.
“I hope so, but I’m afraid there will be but little time for you to get a proper uniform and an outfit,” was the answer.
“I’m not much afraid of that; the tailors won’t take long in rigging me out,” answered Tom.