In Search of Treasure

Among the seamen was a young fellow of nineteen, from Castine, Maine. He was known to Abner Titcomb, who, while on a visit to that town, had become acquainted with James Low and his family.

As Titcomb had not seen Low since he was a boy of fifteen, he did not immediately recognize him till James called him by name. The boy seemed very much pleased to find on board one with whom he had had a previous acquaintance.

Titcomb was speaking to the young sailor one day when Captain Richmond came up.

“Mr. Titcomb,” he said, “what can you have to say to one of my crew?”

The tone was insolent, and Abner Titcomb resented it.

“It happens, Captain Richmond,” he replied, “that this young fellow and I are old acquaintances. I know him and his family.”

“That may be, sir,” returned the captain, with an incredulous sneer.

“What do you mean by that, Captain Richmond? Do you mean to doubt my word?”

“I would have you understand, Mr. Titcomb, that I am the captain of this ship, and I will not tolerate insolence from you or any other man!”

“There has been no insolence except on your part. I am a passenger on this vessel, and I claim to be treated with civility.”

He looked the captain straight in the face, and there was a look of determination in his eyes that made Captain Richmond, who was a bully, but not brave, think he had gone far enough.

“I prefer that you should not speak to any member of my crew,” he rejoined, as he turned abruptly away.

“James,” said Titcomb, “as I don’t wish to get you into any trouble, I will hereafter seek opportunities to speak to you when the captain is not on deck.”

“I wish Captain Grover were in command,” replied the boy. “He was a gentleman.”

From this time Captain Richmond seemed to transfer to James Low some of the dislike he felt for Titcomb. The latter was not in his power, but as James Low was only a sailor, it was a simple matter to make things uncomfortable for him.

One morning Low appeared on deck looking pale and ill. He had malaria in his system, and when he shipped he was not in good physical condition.

“What is the matter, James?” asked Abner Titcomb, who was struck by the young fellow’s appearance.

“I don’t know. My head aches terribly, and I can hardly stand.”

“Why don’t you report yourself sick to the captain, and ask leave to go to your bunk?”

“He wouldn’t believe it.”

“He would be a brute if he didn’t grant your request.”

“Hush! Here he comes!”

Captain Richmond strode on deck, and looked about him in his masterful way.

He noticed James Low’s slow motions.

“Be lively there!” he cried. “You lazy loafer! You’re skulking!”

“Captain Richmond,” said the poor fellow, “I feel very sick. My head is swimming.”

“Sick, are you? Sick of work, most likely,” sneered the captain.

“Indeed, sir, I am very ill. If you would kindly let me lie down for an hour or two–”

“Why, you lazy scoundrel!” roared the captain, in a rage, “I never heard such barefaced insolence! Up to the masthead with you, and stay there till you are ready to do your duty!”

James Low turned a look of anguish upon the captain.

“Indeed, sir, I am very sick,” he said.

As the poor fellow spoke, his face became of a greenish hue, and he sank to the deck, where he lay without sense or motion.

By this time Captain Richmond was intensely irritated, and in his fury he drew back his foot and kicked the prostrate boy brutally.

The poor fellow quivered a little, but he was too far gone in unconsciousness to make any other demonstration.

“Shame! Shame!” was heard from at least two persons who witnessed the captain’s cruelty.

He looked sharply around, and roared out: “Who said that?”

“I did, for one,” responded Guy, pale, but his eyes flashing with indignation.

“Don’t you dare to say it again!” cried the captain, with a volley of oaths.

“I did, for another,” said Abner Titcomb, coming forward, his face stern and threatening.

“You did, eh? You’ll find yourself in irons if you are not careful. I’m not going to have any landlubber interfering with my discipline. D’ye hear that?”

“Captain Richmond,” said Titcomb, “you are the greatest brute I ever came across!”

“Don’t you dare to say that again!” cried the captain, almost foaming at the mouth.

“No one but a brute would kick a sick boy!”

“Sick? He’s shamming!”

“He is not shamming, and you know that as well as I do.”

“I’ll put you in irons, sir! By heavens, you are inciting mutiny!”

“If you put me in irons, you’ll have something to put me in irons for.”

“What d’ye mean by that?”

“I mean that if you are captain of this vessel, I am a man, and I won’t allow you to treat a poor sick sailor as you have treated James Low.”

“You won’t allow me!” yelled the captain. “You’ll see! I’ll do it again for your gratification!” And he drew back his foot as if to kick the prostrate figure once more.