in a low, even tone, and his eyes seemed to focus to two sharp, bright points at the sailor, making his great beak-like nose more prominent.
"Cast me adrift, Trunnell," commanded the ruffian Andrews, with an oath. "I'm a-going to kill that lubber you've got for mate anyhow, and it might as well be done at once as any other time. We'll settle the matter about who's skipper afterward."
"I hears ye well enough, Cap'n Andrews," said Trunnell; "but I ain't eggzactly clear in my mind as to how ye have authority aboard. If I was, I'd cast ye adrift in spite o' the whole crowd, an' ye could rip an' cut to your bloody heart's content. Ye know I'd back ye if 'twas all right and proper; but I never disobeyed an order yet, and stave me, I never will. I don't care who gives it so long as he has the right."
"Spoken like a man an' a sailor," came the sudden sharp tones of the skipper on the poop; and as I looked, the skipper drew forth a watch in one hand and a long revolver in the other, which clicked to readiness as it came in a line between his eye and the body of Andrews. "You have just a few seconds less than a minute to get that fellow forrads and out of the way," he said slowly, as if counting his words. I made no movement to drag the ruffian away, for at that minute I would have offered no objection whatever to seeing the skipper make a target of him; but Trunnell and the sailor Jim instantly seized Andrews, while he cursed the captain and dared him shoot. He struggled vainly to get free of his lashings, but the little bushy-headed mate tucked him under his arm, while Jim took his feet, and the crowd of gaping men broke away as they went forward.
III
After I had recovered from my somewhat violent exertions, and bound up the slight cut that Andrews had made in my hand with his knife, eight bells had struck, and the steward brought aft the cabin hash. The skipper went below, and Trunnell and I followed.
Captain Thompson seated himself at the head of the table and signed for us to take our places; then it suddenly occurred to me that I was only second mate, and consequently did not rate the captain's table. Trunnell noticed my hesitation, but said nothing, and the skipper fell to with such a hearty good will that he appeared to entirely forget my presence. I hastily made some excuse to get back on deck, and the little, bushy-headed mate smiled and nodded approvingly at me as I went up the alleyway forward. I was much pleased at this delicate hint on his part, for many mates would have made uncalled-for remarks at such a blunder. It showed me that the little giant who could keep me from being carved to rat-line stuff could be civil also.
I was much taken with him owing to what had happened, and I looked down at him as he ate, for I could see him very well as I stood near the mizzen on the port side of the cabin skylight. The glass of the hatch was raised to let the cabin air, and I watched the bushy head beneath, with its aggressive beard bending over the dirty table-cloth. The large squat nose seemed to sniff the good grub as the steward served the fresh beef, and Trunnell made ready with his knife.
He laid the blade on his plate and heaped several large chunks of the meat and potatoes upon it. Then he dropped his chin and seemed to shut his eyes as he carefully conveyed the load to his mouth, drawing the steel quickly through his thick lips without spilling more than a commensurate amount of the stuff upon his beard, and injuring himself in no way whatever. The quick jerk with which he slipped the steel clear so as to have it ready for another load made me a trifle nervous; but it was evident that he was not a novice at eating. Indeed, the skipper appeared to admire his dexterity, for I saw his small, glinting eyes look sharply from the little fellow to the boyish third officer who sat to starboard.
"Never had no call for a fork, eh?" said he, after watching the mate apparently come within an inch of cutting his head in two.
"Nope," said Trunnell.
They ate in silence for some minutes.
"I like to see a fellow what can make out with the fewest tools. Tools are good enough for mechanics; a bit an' a bar'll do for a man. Ever been to New York?"
"Nope," said Trunnell.
There was a moment's silence.
"I might 'a' knowed that," said the skipper, as if to himself.
Trunnell appeared to sniff sarcasm.
"Oh, I've been to one or two places in my time," said he. "There ain't nothin' remarkable about New York except the animals, and I don't keer fer those."
"Whatchermean?"
"Oh, I was closte into the beach off Sandy Hook onct when we was tryin' to get to the south'ard, an' I see an eliphint about a hundred feet high on the island acrost the bay. There was a feller aboard as said they had cows there just as big what give milk. I wouldn't have believed him, but fer the fact that there ware the eliphint before my eyes."
"Stuffed, man—he was stuffed," explained the captain.
"Stuffed or no; there he ware," persisted Trunnell. "He would 'a' been no bigger stuffed than alive. 'Tain't likely they could 'a' stretched his hide more'n a foot."
The skipper gave the third mate a sly look, and his nose worked busily like a parrot's beak for a few minutes.
"You believe lots o' things, eh?" said he, while his nose worked and wrinkled in amusement.
"I believe in pretty much all I sees an' some little I hears," said
Trunnell, dryly.
"'Specially in eliphints, eh?—a hundred feet high?"
"But not in argufying over facts," retorted Trunnell. "No, sink me, when I finds I'm argufying agin the world—agin facts—I tries to give in some and let the world get the best o' the argument. I've opinions the same as you have, but when they don't agree with the rest o' the world, do I go snortin' around a-tryin' to show how the world is wrong an' I am right? Sink me if I do. No, I tries to let the other fellow have a show. I may be right, but if I sees the world is agin me, I—"
"Right ye are, Trunnell. Spoken O.K." said the skipper. "I like to see a man what believes in a few things—even if they's eliphints. What do you think of the fellow forrads? Do you believe in him to any extent?"
The third mate appeared much amused at the conversation, but did not speak. He was a remarkably good-looking young fellow, and I noted the fact at the time.
Trunnell did not answer the last remark, but held himself very straight in his chair.
"Do you believe much in the fellow who was skipper, especially after his tryin' to carve Mr. Rolling?"
"I believe him a good sailor," said Trunnell, stiffening up.
"Ye don't say?" said the skipper.
"I never critisizez my officers," said Trunnell; and after that the skipper let him alone.
I was pleased with Trunnell. His philosophy was all right, and I believed from that time he was an honest man. Things began to look a little brighter, and in spite of an aversion to the skipper which had begun to creep upon me, I now saw that he was an observing fellow, and was quick to know the value of men. I didn't like his allusion to a bit and bar for a man, but thought little about the matter. In a short time Trunnell relieved me, and I went below with the carpenter and steward to our mess.
The carpenter was a young Irishman, shipped for the first time. This was the first time I had been to sea with a ship carpenter who was not either a Russian, a Finn, or a Swede. The steward was a little mulatto, who announced, as he sat down, after bringing in the hash, that he was bloody glad he was an Englishman, and looked at me for approval.
This was to show that he did not approve of the scene he had witnessed on the main deck in the morning, and I accepted it as a token of friendship.
"'Tis cold th' owld man thinks it is, whin he has th' skylight wide open," said Chips, looking up at the form of Trunnell, who stood on the poop. There was a strange light in the young fellow's eye as