He was gulping like a
catfish.
Noyes looked to see if the captain had witnessed the little comedy.
Evidently he had, for Noyes could hear him swearing.
Noyes, now on the bridge, was still chuckling over the picture of the
scared cook when the pump-man came walking forward. He was swinging a
pair of Stillson wrenches, one in each hand, as if they were Indian
clubs, and singing as he came:
"Our ship she was alaborin' in the Gulf o' Mexico,
The skipper on the quarter, with eyes aloft and low.
Says he, 'My bucko boys, it's asurely goin' to blow--
Take every blessed rag from her, strip her from truck to toe,
And we'll see what she can make of it.'
And O, my eyes, it blew! And blew and blew,
And blew and blew! My soul, how it did blow!
Aboard the _Flying Walrus_ in the Gulf o' Mexico.
"The sea--"
Noyes saw him leap to one side, even as he saw a heavy, triple-sheaved
block bound on the steel deck beside him. Noyes looked up. Aloft was the
boson, apparently rigging up some sort of a hoisting arrangement.
The pump-man stopped to pull out a handkerchief and wipe his forehead.
Then he, too, looked up. "Fine business. But did you think for a minute
you--that I didn't have my eye on you?"
It took the boson a minute or two to find his tongue. When he did, it
was to say, "Young fella, did you ship for a opera singer or wot?"
"I shipped for what you'll find my name signed against in the articles,
and I'm on the job every minute.
Pages:
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163