The Last Cruise of the Spitfire: or, Luke Foster's Strange Voyage

"He must be a brute!" I exclaimed. "He shall not treat me like that, I can tell you."

"I'd like to see some one stand up against him," said Phil. "None of the men dare to do it."

"What makes you stay on board?"

"I have to. Captain Hannock has charge of me until I'm twenty-one."

"He is your guardian?"

"Yes."

"He ought to treat you better. Did you ever try to run away?"

"Once; while we were at Baltimore. But Lowell caught me, and the captain nearly killed me when I got back. I could have got away, only I had no money."

"Doesn't the captain allow you anything for your services?" I asked, at the same time wondering if I would be paid for what I was called upon to do.

"Not a cent. To tell the truth he even takes away what the passengers – if we have any – give me."

"He must be mighty mean," said I.

"If you've any money you had better hide it," went on the cabin boy. "'Tain't safe here."

"Thank you, Phil, I'll take your advice. I've got four dollars and a half, and I don't want to lose it."

As I spoke I felt in my pocket to make sure that the amount was still safe.

To my chagrin the money was gone!

I must confess that I felt quite angry when I discovered that my hard-earned savings had been taken from me. To be sure, four dollars and a half was not a large sum, but it had been my entire capital and I had calculated upon doing a great deal with it.

"What's the matter?" asked Phil Jones, as he stood by, watching me turn my pockets inside out to make sure that there was no mistake.

"My money is gone!" I exclaimed. "I have been robbed."

"Where did you have it?"

"Right here, in my vest pocket."

"You're foolish to carry it loose. Any one could take it from you," said the cabin boy, with a knowing shake of his head.

"I didn't take every one for a thief. Who do you suppose took the money?"

"The captain or Lowell. He's only boatswain, but the two work hand in hand."

I had already surmised this from the conversation I had overheard. The two were well mated, and no doubt the sailor was the captain's ready tool on all occasions.

"What are you going to do about it?" asked Phil curiously.

"Get it back if I can," I replied with determination. "I'm not going to be fleeced in this manner."

"You'd better let it go," said the cabin boy, with a grave shake of his head. "You'll only get yourself into trouble, and it won't do a bit of good."

Phil Jones's advice was good, and I would have saved myself considerable trouble by following it.

But I was angry, and, as a consequence, did not stop to count the cost.

I searched my other pockets, and soon learned that everything I had had about my person was gone, including the letter from England. No doubt it was through this letter that Captain Hannock had found out my name.

CHAPTER IX

UP LONG ISLAND SOUND

The loss of the letter worried me even more than the loss of the money. In the exciting events that had transpired since I had received it I had forgotten the writer's name and his address. I remembered the name was something like Noddington, and that the address was a number in Old Fellows Road, but that was all.

This was deeply to be regretted, for I had expected to put myself into immediate communication with my father's friend, having any reply addressed to the post-office of the place I might be then stopping at.

But now this scheme could not be carried out. To send a letter haphazard would probably do no good.

I was so worked up over my discovery that I left the forecastle without taking the trouble to don the clothing Lowell had pointed out to me. I looked around the deck, and seeing the boatswain at the bow, hastened towards him.

His brow contracted when he saw me.

"Why didn't you put on the suit I gave you?" he demanded.

"Because I first wanted to speak to you," I returned. "What have you done with my money?"

"Your money? I haven't seen any money," he returned coolly.

By his manner I could easily tell that his statement was untrue.

"I had four dollars and a half and some letters in my pockets," I went on. "I want them back."

"Why you good-for-nothing landlubber!" he roared. "Do you mean to say I'm a thief?"

"Well, where's my money?"

"How do I know? Come, do as I ordered you to."

And he shook his fist at me savagely.

"I want my stuff and I'm going to have it," I went on, as stoutly as I could.

"You're going to obey orders, that's what you're going to do," he cried. "I take no back talk from any one."

"If you don't give up that money I'll have you arrested as a thief the first time I get the chance," was my reply; and I meant just what I said.

"You will, will you?" he roared. "Just wait till I get a rope's end and we'll see who is boss here."