Read The Boy Chums in the Gulf of Mexico Page 8


  CHAPTER VIII.

  TROUBLE.

  AFTER the crew had eaten their supper and rested a bit, the captainhad them transfer the sponges from the diving boat to the deck of theschooner. The sponges made quite an imposing pile which the old sailorsurveyed with satisfaction. "You've done well to-day," he remarked,"if every day's work is as good we'll have a valuable cargo before ourthree months are up. I reckon, thar's all of two hundred dollars' worthof sponges in that heap."

  "Are you sure that you know how to clean and cure them right?" Charleyenquired.

  "I don't, but Chris knows that part of the business from A to Z. Wherehe comes from the people live by sponging and pearl fishing."

  "Golly, dat's right," observed the little darkey. "I'se helped my daddyfix sponges many a time. First off, you'se got to beat de mud out obdem wid sticks, den you got to let dem lay foah a day or two to die,'cause dey's alive jus' like fishes. When dey's good an' dead, you putsdem in nets an' hangs dem ober de side for de water to wash dem outclean. Den you dry dem out on deck an' string dem out on strings 'bouttwo yards long. Dat makes dem all ready for market 'cept for clippingde bad parts off of dem, which is done on shore. Dar ain't nothin''bout fixin' up sponges dat dis nigger doan know."

  Just then a small boat came alongside the schooner and the boyshastened to the side to welcome the two men it contained. They werethe captain and mate of the schooner anchored nearest to the "Beauty".Both were young fellows hardly out of their teens. They introducedthemselves as Steve Ward, and Ray Lowe.

  "We thought we'd drop over and have a little chat with you," said Ward,who was the captain. "You, of course, don't realize it yet, but anAmerican face looks mighty good amongst this army of Greeks, especiallyafter one has been out for a month or two. We all start out togetherbut before the season ends we get pretty widely scattered and to meetup with another schooner with an American aboard is like coming acrossa long-lost brother. This is my fifth trip and I am getting prettywell hardened to the loneliness now, but the first time I was out Inearly went crazy. After we parted from the rest of the fleet, it wasworse than being alone on a desert island, for I had the misery ofseeing others talk, laugh and enjoy themselves without being able tounderstand a word. When, at last, we came across a ship with someoneaboard I could talk to I nearly cried for joy. It seemed so good to beable to understand and make myself understood once more." His glancefell upon Manuel George, who was leaning against the rail, and his grayeyes narrowed.

  "What made you bring that fellow with you?" he asked.

  "We had to have someone along who could talk their lingo," CaptainWestfield replied. "Do you know him?"

  "I don't know anything good of him," said the other shortly. "I camenear killing him once and I've always half regretted that I didn't doit. It was on my first trip," he explained. "It was just such anothercase as that young fellow's who was arrested the other day. Although Iwas captain, the Greeks owned the schooner, and, because I was youngand inexperienced, they got the idea they could run over me and doas they pleased. Manuel was always stirring them up and encouragingthem to disobey orders. One day I had some words with him about it,and,"--the young fellow's face darkened--"well, he carries a bulletin his leg yet. The others set on me and I had to lock myself up inthe cabin. Likely, they would have got me in the end and thrown meoverboard to feed the sharks, but we happened to come across anotherschooner and they had to let me go."

  "He don't want to try any tricks with me," Captain Westfield declared."I got him to talk their lingo but had him sign on as one of thecrew. If he tries to act up, I'll put him at the hardest work on theschooner."

  "Well, keep your eye on him," advised the other. "He has never made atrip yet without making trouble. He's a mighty bad egg and as sly andcunning as he is mean."

  The two men remained for over two hours, and from them the little partylearned many new and interesting things about their new business andabout the Greeks.

  "We have no reason to complain of a dull trip so far," Charley said,when the two Americans had left. "Only two days out and one of our crewis dead, another is supposed to be on the watch to make us trouble, anda third is a mystery worth solving, judging from the way the otherstreat him. If things keep on as they have started, we will have avoyage exciting enough to satisfy anyone."

  If the lad could have known of the exciting events soon to follow closeon each other's heels, he would have had even less reason to complainof dullness.

  The next day's sponging was the same as the first. They seemed to havehappened upon a spot where the sponges were unusually plentiful. Thebasket came frequently to the surface loaded with the big mud-coveredmasses and by nightfall the diving boat's deck was well covered. Allday the two lads persisted in their attempt to learn the Greek namesfor the things about them. By night Charley was able to direct theoperation of getting under way for the schooner. Of course, he was yetunable to construct sentences in Greek, but he could call the Greeknames for sails, anchor, and different parts of the rigging and thecrew managed to guess the rest. Though it was a crude and imperfect wayof giving orders, it succeeded better than the slow, imperfect signs hehad been obliged to depend upon before.

  "If we keep on as fast, we will be able to make them understand us wellwithin two weeks," he declared gleefully.

  It was still light enough for them to see distinctly when they reachedthe schooner, and they looked about them with regret as they climbedaboard. Her snow-white decks were filthy from the pounding out of thesponges, and bulwarks, sails and rigging were spattered with the foulmud, while the strong, rank odor of dead fish hung heavy in the air.

  Chris and the captain had just knocked off work. Their faces, hands andclothing were black as soot. The old sailor's face showed set and sternthrough its coating of mud. He said little until all were washed up andseated around the supper table.

  "Well, lads, I reckon our troubles have begun," he remarked, grimly."Manuel an' I had a row to-day."

  "What about? How did it come out?" the boys questioned, eagerly.

  "I told him to help us with the sponge cleaning and he refused to doit. When I insisted he flew into a rage, cursed me, an' shook his fistin my face. I couldn't stand for that an' he's down in the hold nowwith the irons on him."

  "Well, I feel easier with him there than with him mixing in with thecrew," Charley declared.

  "My row with him ain't the worst of the matter," the old sailor saidgravely. "I called on the crew to help me iron him and they allpretended they didn't understand my sign, but they knew what I wantedall right. I had to handle him alone an' we had quite a strugglebefore I got the best of him." He rolled up his sleeve and showed anugly-looking cut on his arm. "He came near getting me with his knifean' I had to give him a couple of taps with a belaying pin. That cutdon't amount to anything, but what worries me is that the crew stoodaround an' watched him try to kill me without interfering--it's amighty bad sign."

  "That does look bad," Charley agreed, anxiously. "I guess we had betterkeep him a close prisoner and not let any of the crew go near him, hemight try to stir them up and make things hot for us."

  "But that means that someone will have to guard him an' carry his mealsto him. It wouldn't do to have one of the Greeks do it, I reckon."

  "No," Charley agreed, thoughtfully, "but I believe I've got the veryman for the job--that handsome fellow the others seem to hate so.Manuel tried to kill him and he is not likely to be easy with him."

  The mysterious sailor was at once sent for by Ben. As soon as he camethe captain loaded a tray with food and a bottle of water and signedfor him to carry it and follow him. Charley and Walter accompanied thetwo.

  As they passed along the deck on their way to the hold, they met angryglances and frowns from the crew.

  The mysterious sailor was very intelligent and they soon made himunderstand that he was to guard the prisoner. He grinned with enjoymentand, seating himself a little way from the Greek, took out his longkeen sheath knife and laid it handy beside him.
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  The prisoner's face grew black with rage at sight of his guard, but hemaintained a sulky silence.

  "I guess he's safe enough now," the captain said as they returned totheir cabin. "I believe that fellow will guard him faithfully. Theyseem to hate each other like poison--I wish I knew the reason for it."

  "It would not seem so strange if the hatred was confined to him andManuel, but all the others seem to share in the feeling," Charleyremarked. "It seems very queer to me."