By the World Forgot: A Double Romance of the East and West. Brady Cyrus Townsend
His great hand shot out and shook itself beneath Beekman's face. "An' I'm your master not only because I'm first officer of this ship, but because I'm a better man than you are. I flung you into the lee scuppers an' I can do it again. I'm willin' an' wishful to do it, too. If you gimme any more mutinous back talk; if you refuse to turn to an' do your duty accordin' to the articles you signed when you come aboard, you'll git it again. If you act like a man instead of a fool, you'll have no more trouble with me 's long as you obey orders. D'ye git that?"
"I get it, yes. It's plain enough, but it makes no difference to me."
"It don't, don't it?"
"No; and I'm not a member of this crew. I signed no articles, and I don't propose to do a thing unless I please. I want to see the captain."
"You gimme the lie, do you?" said Woywod, approaching nearer.
"Now, look here," said Beekman; "I want you to understand one thing."
"What's that?"
"I'm not afraid of you. You can kill me. You've got the physical strength to do it, although if I were not so sick, there might be an argument as to that; so you might as well quit bullying me. Oh, yes, I have no doubt but what you could knock me over again, but I'll die fighting."
His hand clenched a belaying pin. He drew it out and lifted it up.
"Mr. Woywod," the captain's voice came from aft, "is that man givin' you any trouble again?"
"I can deal with him, sir."
"Send him aft to me."
Of course, Woywod could not disobey so direct an order. He had no relish for it, but there was no help for it. Beekman himself took action. He shoved past the mate, who, under the circumstances, did not dare to hit him, and made his way staggering along the deck to the bridge, where the mate followed him. Two or three of the crew came aft, but the mate drove them forward with curses and oaths.
"Young man," said the captain, an old man of short stature, but immensely broad shouldered and powerful, "do you know what mutiny is?"
"I certainly do."
"Oh, you've been to sea before, have you?"
"Many times."
"On what ships?"
"Trans-Atlantic liners and my own yacht."
"Your own yacht!" The captain burst into a roar of laughter.
"That's what I said."
"Do you know I'm the master of this ship?"
"I presume so."
"Well, then, say 'sir' to me, an' be quick about it."
"It is your due," said Beekman; "I should have done it before. I beg your pardon, sir."
"That's better. Now, what's this cock-an'-bull story you're try in' to tell me? Look here, Smith-"
"That's not my name, sir."
"Well, that's the name you made your mark to on the ship's articles when you were brought aboard, the drunkest sailor I ever seen."
"That's exactly it," said Beekman. "I'm no sailor, and my name is not Smith."
"What's your name?"
"Beekman; Derrick Beekman."
"How came you aboard my ship?"
"I suppose I've been shanghaied. I don't know any more than you do; perhaps not as much."
"You mean," roared the captain, "that I had any hand in bringing you here?"
"I don't know anything about that. I only know that I was to be married today, Thursday."
"'Tain't Thursday; it's Friday. You've been in a drunken stupor since Thursday morning."
"Friday!"
Beekman looked about him with something like despair in his heart. There was not even a ship to be seen in the whole expanse of leaden sea.
"Captain-What's your name, sir?"
"Well, the impudence of that," ejaculated Woywod.
"What difference does it make to you what the cap'n's name is," sneered Salver.
"It's Peleg Fish, Smith-Beekman, or Beekman-Smith; Captain Peleg Fish."
"Well, Captain Fish, I'm a member of an old New York family and-"
"Families don't count for nothin' here," said the captain. "If that's all you've got to say, I've seen a many of them last scions brought down to the fok's'l."
"I was engaged to be married to the daughter of John Maynard. I presume you've heard of him."
"Do you mean the president of the Inter-Oceanic Trading Company?"
"I do."
"Well, I've heard of him all right," laughed the captain. "This is the Susquehanna. She belongs to his company. We fly his house flag. Do you mean to tell me that you claim to have been engaged to his daughter; a drunken ragamuffin like you, the off-scourin's of Water Street, which the crimps unload on us poor, helpless, seafarin' men as able seamen?"
"I was. I am. The wedding was set for yesterday. We had a bachelor dinner on Wednesday night, and I guess we all drank too much. At any rate, I don't know anything further except that I woke up here."
"It's a likely story."
"That chap's got a rich imagination," sneered the second mate.
"He'd orter be writin' romances," ejaculated Woywod.
"Enough," said Captain Fish. "Your story may be true or it may not. I don't think it is, but whether it is or not, it don't matter. You were brought aboard at two o'clock Thursday morning. We tripped and sailed at four. His name's on the articles, Mr. Woywod?"
"It is; John Smith. I witnessed his signature. He couldn't write at the time, so someone held his hand an' he made his mark."
"This is an outrage," roared Beekman. "What became of my watch and clothes?"
"You had nothin' but what you've got on now when you came aboard. Am I right, cap'n?"
"You are, sir."
"So you see there's nothin' for you to do but turn to an' behave yourself an' obey orders. When the ship reaches Vladivostok, an' we pays off, you can take your discharge an' go where you please."
"I'll give you a thousand dollars to go back to New York and land me."
The captain grinned. Taking their cue from him, Mr. Woywod and Mr. Salver exploded with laughter.
"You might as well make it ten thousand, while you're about it."
"I will make it ten thousand," said Beekman, desperately.
"Nonsense!"
"Well, then, will you trans-ship me to some vessel bound for New York?"
"We're short handed, sir," put in Woywod.
"Couldn't think of it," said the captain, who, of course, disbelieved in toto Beekman's highly improbable story.
This was the richest and most extravagant tale he had ever listened to. To do him justice, every voyage he had ever sailed had produced someone who strove to get out of the ship by urging some wildly improbable excuse for his being there.
"Well, sir, if you won't do that, I suppose Colon will be your first port of call, and you are going through the Panama Canal. Let me get on the end of the cable there and I'll get you orders from Mr. Maynard himself."
"I might be inclined to do that," said the captain facetiously, "but the canal is blocked by another slide in the Culebra cut, an' we're goin' around the Horn."
"Don't you touch anywhere?"
"Some South Sea island for vegetables an' water, mebbe, but no place where there's a cable, if I can help it. When I takes my departure I don't want nobody interferin' with me an' sendin' orders after me."
"Is there a wireless on the ship?"
"No. Now, if you've finished your questionin', perhaps you'll allow me to say a word