by Carol Norton
CHAPTER IV.
THE START.
"WE have got to get a move on us," Captain Westfield said as thefour chums gathered together at the breakfast table. "I've been outenquirin' around this mornin' an' I've larned that the sponging fleetsails in two days. Of course we don't have to go with the fleet, but,bein' as it's our first trip an' we're green at the business, I reckon,we had better keep with the crowd an' learn all we can. I've been upto see the United States Commissioner an' got charts of the sponginggrounds an' took out papers for the ship. We're all officers on thepapers, lads. He put me down as captain of the schooner, Chris is mate.You, Charley, are captain of the diving boats, an' Walter's chiefengineer."
"I don't want to be no mate," Chris protested. "I wants to be de cook.Dat's schooner's got a powerful fine galley an' a sight ob pots an'kettles. Golly! I reckon dis nigger can fix up de grub better dan anyof dem ignorant furriners. A mate ain't no manner ob count on board alittle ship. De captain's always blamin' him for somethin' or udderan' de crew always hates him. He's always in trubble wid one or theudder. Now de cook's always his own boss, he don't hab to stay outnights in de cold an' de rain an' ebbery one is powerful perlite tohim, 'cause dey wants to keep on de bes' side ob de one dat handles degrub. I'd rather be a cook dan an ole mate any day."
"But you don't know how to rig up their queer furrin dishes, lad," thecaptain explained. "They ain't used to eatin' grub fixed up good likeyou fix it."
"Golly! I reckon dat's so," agreed the little negro, pompously. "Ispect dey doan know much 'bout cookin'. Reckon dey wouldn't eat anymore ob der own if dey got a taste ob mine."
"That's the trouble," the captain agreed craftily, "an' we don't wantto spoil them. Besides, I reckoned you'd like to be mate. Why, I was atsea ten years before I got a mate's berth. I reckon your folks on CatIsland would be mighty proud to hear that you were one an' was wearinga blue suit with big brass buttons, an' a cap with Mate on it in biggilt letters."
"Golly! I nebber thought ob dat," exclaimed the little negro,delightedly, rising hastily from the table. "I'se goin' to buy demclothes right now an' hab my picture took in 'em an' send 'bout twentyob dem to de folks on Cat Island."
"You got around that pretty neatly, Captain," Charley said, as soon asChris was gone. "I expected him to insist upon being cook. He thinks noone else can do it so well. But, seriously, don't you think we are allrather young to be ship's officers. Men are quite apt to resent havingto take orders from mere boys."
"The law requires that those four offices be filled by Americans an'we can't afford to hire men to fill the places. Chris will be under myorders all the time an' will be mate only in name. But you boys arealready smart sailors an' I expect you to be real officers on yourboats. If you weren't on the papers proper you might have trouble withyour men, but the fact that you are regular commissioned officers willmake smooth sailing for you. Any refusal to obey your orders would bemutiny."
"Very well, Captain," agreed Walter. "What do you want Captain West andI to do next?"
"Just lay around an' enjoy yourselves this mornin', I guess. The firstthing is to get a fellow who talks Greek an' to hire a crew. I want topick them out myself. As soon as we get them there will be plenty todo stockin' up with grub an' water. Better spend the time lookin' overyour new command an' pickin' up what you can about the business."
The advice was good, and, as soon as they had finished breakfast, theboys hastened down to the harbor to inspect the diving boats they hadacquired with the purchase of the 'Beauty'. Upon a close inspection,they were delighted with their new commands. The little vessel wasquite new and its model promised great seaworthiness. Besides the hugesquare sail it carried, it was equipped with a ten-horse power gasolineengine. Its rig was different from any the boys had ever seen, and theyspent several hours studying it, and making themselves acquainted withthe working of the engine.
"I believe I can handle it by myself now, if I had to do it," Charleydeclared, at last. "The engine may give us a little trouble at first,but we will soon get on to it and it's likely there will be severalGreeks in the crew who know how to run it. Now, the next thing is tosettle on a name for our craft."
"I thought of calling it 'Flora'," Walter said, with a little sheepishsmile.
"And I was thinking of naming it 'Ola'," declared Charley promptly.
After a spirited debate over the two names they held in such esteem,the two lads at last came to a compromise by agreeing to call theirlittle ship "The Two Sisters". This decided, they rummaged aroundin the lockers until they found paint and brushes with which theyproceeded to letter on the bow of their crafts the name chosen.
As soon as this task was finished, they returned to the village andmade a round of the shops purchasing clothing for their trip, pricingprovisions, and learning all they could from the various merchantsabout the Greeks and the sponge business.
They were passing a little photo studio when Chris' voice hailed themfrom inside. It was hard for them to refrain from laughter at thefigure the little negro presented.
A common blue suit had been too tame a color for Chris'brilliant-loving soul. He was clothed in a pair of baggish yellowtrousers, many sizes too large for him, a coat of vivid scarlet hue,and a cap of deepest purple. But in spite of his brilliant attire, hislittle ebony face expressed deepest satisfaction. On a chair besidehim was a great pile of finished tin-types and the Greek proprietor,beaming at the unusual rush of business, was just adjusting his camerato take another.
"Why, what do you want with any more of them, Chris?" Walter exclaimed."You've got enough already to supply everyone on Cat Island."
"Dey ain't no good," replied the little darkey, mournfully, "I 'spectdis man doan know his business."
Charley examined one of the despised tintypes. "Why, they look justlike you," he declared.
"Dey's just black an' white," protested the little negro. "Dey doanshow de colors at all."
The chums turned their heads aside to hide their grins.
"That's a Greek camera, Chris," Charley said with a wink at Walter."You can't expect it to take American colors. I tell you what to do.Just write at the bottom of each picture: Pants, yellow; coat, scarlet;cap, purple."
"Golly! I nebber thought ob dat," exclaimed the little darkey,brightening. "But it hain't like habbing de colors show," he added,mournfully.
The three were making their way back to the hotel when their progresswas arrested by piercing screams coming from the rear of a large Greekrestaurant.
The boys hesitated and looked at each other.
"Sounds as though someone was hurt pretty bad," Charley commented, "butI guess we had better go along about our business. We are likely toget ourselves into trouble if we meddle with things in this section,"but as he spoke the screams rang out afresh. The chums looked at eachother; there was no need for words between them.
"Well, it's foolish, but here goes," Charley exclaimed.
A narrow alley led into the rear of the building and down it hashastened followed by his two companions.
A minute's walk brought them to the scene of the screams.
In a little back yard stood a small Greek boy about thirteen years ofage. He was clad only in short trousers and his bare back and legswere covered with angry welts. Above him towered a dark, scowlingGreek, who was swinging a heavy cowhide whip, while at each descent ofthe cruel, stinging lash the lad's screams rose in piteous protests.Clustered around was some dozen men and boys looking on with unconcern.
Charley caught the Greek's arm as it rose for another blow. "Stop that,you big brute," he cried, trembling with anger. "You have no right tobeat a little fellow like that, no matter what he has done. If you hithim another blow, I'll have you arrested."
"He won't understand you, Charley," Walter cautioned.
But the Greek did understand. He turned a look of the deepest hate onthe plucky lad. For a second he seemed in the act of striking him withthe heavy whip, but Charley did not flinch. "Try it, if you dare," hecried.
The Greek lowered his upraised arm. "Why should I not strike him?" Hedemanded savagely, but in perfect English. "He is mine, I pay his fareall the way from Greece. All day he plays on the street and brings homeno money. I will beat him if I wish."
"You will not," declared Charley, firmly. "If you do, you will bearrested very quickly. Lad, if this man attempts to beat you again,you come to us; you will find us on board the schooner 'Beauty'. Ifshe is not in the harbor you go to Mr. Driver who owns the store, Iwill tell him about you and he will see that you are not abused. Do youunderstand what I say?"
"Yes sir, I speak English good," the little lad replied proudly. "Heteach me so I can beg the pennies."
The Greek's manner had suddenly changed. His frown disappeared and hewore a smile that he endeavored to make pleasant.
"The noble young gentleman need not worry," he said, smoothly, "I lovethe boy and already regret having whipped him--he is very bad. But itshall happen no more."
"It had better not," Charley replied shortly, as he turned away. "Comeon, Walt, I am going to speak to Mr. Driver about it now."
Mr. Driver listened to the lad's story with a very grave face. "I'mafraid you boys have made a dangerous enemy," he said. "That Greek isManuel George, and he is a very bad character. He was arrested oncefor the murder of another Greek, but they could not prove the chargeagainst him although everyone believed that he had done it. You want tobe very careful as long as you are in Tarpon. I will gladly have himarrested if the boy makes any complaint to me."
The boys found the captain waiting for them at the hotel. "I've hadthe best of luck," the old sailor declared. "I found the very Greek weneed to make our orders plain to the crew. He talks English as goodas you or I. I did not lose any time in gettin' his name on the ship'spapers. He promised to meet us here at the hotel this noon. There hecomes now."
The chums exchanged a glance of dismay, for approaching their table,bowing, smiling, and as suave as though they were his dearest friendswas Mr. Manuel George.