Why now, I'm thinking of taking you, for I see you're a
likely lad, and one that will argue for his principles. Good wages,
good food, good treatment; will you go?" The last was shot out and
cut off close behind, his lips shutting like a pair of scissors. I
says, "That's what I'll do," and didn't know there was anything odd
about it. It might have been the average way a shipmaster picked up a
man for aught I knew. I shipped on the bark _Hebe Maitland_ as
ordinary seaman.
The shipping news of that week contained this item:
"Sailed, Bark, _Hebe Maitland_, Clyde, Merchandise for Porto
del Rey."
Now, there is such a place as Porto del Rey, for I was there once,
but not till twenty years later.
The _Hebe Maitland_ didn't always go to the place she was
billed for, and when she did she was apt to be a month late, and
likely couldn't have told what she'd been doing in the meantime.
Somebody had been doing something, but it wasn't the _Hebe
Maitland_. Ships may have notions for aught I know, and the
_Hebe Maitland_ was no fool, but if so, I judge she couldn't
have straightened it out without help; and if she argued and got mad
about it, that was no more than appropriate, for we all argued on the
_Hebe Maitland_.
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