Under Dewey at Manila. Stratemeyer Edward
were together again, and mother was alive!"
Larry had stopped at the post-office as soon as it was open in the morning, just as he had stopped every morning since he had been in Honolulu. Now, putting his letters away, he hurried on, bound for the dock at which the Columbia lay.
"Well, I see you're on hand," was Tom Grandon's greeting when he appeared. "You can get right to work, if you will. I've sent that good-for-nothing Kanaka about his business."
"Me take Kuola's place," said a thick voice at Grandon's elbow, and both Larry and the mate of the Columbia turned, to find a dusky, fat, and ill-smelling native standing before them.
"What's that, man?"
"You send Kuola away—me take his place."
"I don't want you. I've hired this lad to fill Kuola's place."
"Dat boy?"
"Yes."
"He no strong as Wakari—Wakari werry strong. You try um."
"I told you I didn't want you," answered Tom Grandon, half angrily, for the foul-smelling native had come up closer, and caught him by the shoulder. "You go and look for work elsewhere."
The face of the native fell, and he muttered something under his breath in his own language. He still wanted to argue; but Grandon threw his hand off and turned him around, and then he glided away, noiselessly, like some beast of the forest.
"You'll get into trouble with those boys, Tom," laughed Captain Ponsberry, who stood near. "Consarn 'em! Give me a white man for stevedore work, every time. The wust of 'em are wuth three niggers! How are you to-day?" the last to Larry.
"Very well, sir, and ready to pitch in," was the answer. "I should have been here earlier, only I received two letters—one from each of my brothers—and I couldn't help stopping to read them."
"Don't blame you for that, for letters are scarce when you get away as far as this. I was looking for letters and papers myself; but Jack Dodger, who went after 'em, ain't back yet."
The captain turned to another part of the dock, and Larry followed Tom Grandon on board of the Columbia. Although he had been a sailor but a short time, the youth knew how to take in many of the good points of a vessel, and his quick eye told him that the Columbia was in every respect an A 1 schooner, to use the Lloyds' method of classification, and that all on board was in perfect order and as clean as a boatswain's whistle.
"She's a good one," he observed, as he saw Tom Grandon look at him questioningly.
"None better, lad," responded the mate, "and I expected you to say it. Now come up to the forward hatch. Do you think you could manage yonder block and fall without getting a finger taken off or dropping a valuable case of goods?"
"I think I can. I did just such work on the Rescue about a month ago."
"Then pitch in, and if you do a man's work it's a man's wages that will be coming to you when the job's at an end. Come, Hobson, Striker, bend to it now and no fooling, or the Columbia will never be unloaded, to say nothing of getting our Hong Kong cargo aboard. Where is Oleson, that new fellow that shipped day before yesterday?"
"He hasn't shown up this morning, sir," answered the man addressed as Hobson, a ruddy faced Englishman. "Was he to work with us?"
"We didn't hire him for it, but still he might take a hand—the sooner we're unloaded and loaded again, the better. There you are, boy, steady now and let her go! Up, up! a leetle more! That will do. It's all right—couldn't have done it better myself. Hobson, this is Larry Russell, the brave lad that stopped the team yesterday. He'll help here as long as there is anything to do," and with a cheerful wave of his hand Tom Grandon moved to another part of the schooner, leaving Larry to continue the task which had been assigned to him.
It is needless to say that the youth went to work with a will, not only because that was his usual way of doing things, but because he wanted to show Captain Ponsberry and the mate that he was capable of taking a man's place, should it come to a question of shipping for the cruise to Hong Kong—something that was more in his mind than ever before, now that he had seen what a good craft the Columbia was.
As Larry worked, the eyes of two natives secreted behind a high pile of lumber on the dock beyond were riveted upon him. One of the natives was Kuola, the fellow who had been discharged, the other was Wakari, the foul-smelling chap who had come to take his place. Both were dissolute, only working in order to obtain a little cash with which to buy liquor. They watched Larry for a long time, then both shook their clenched fists at the boy and sneaked off.
CHAPTER V
SOMETHING ABOUT THE DESTRUCTION OF THE "MAINE"
About an hour had been passed by Larry in steady work, when, on looking towards the companionway of the Columbia, he saw Captain Ponsberry rush up, newspaper in hand, and so excited that he could scarcely speak.
"Tom Grandon, look here!" he cried. "Consarn the Spaniards, anyhow! Here's news for all to listen to, and news that ought to set the whole United States on fire with indignation. We ought to drown every mother's son of 'em at the bottom of the sea."
"What is it, Nat?" returned Grandon, rushing forward, while Larry and the others paused in their work. "What have the Spaniards been doing to the poor Cubans now?"
"Cubans!" fairly roared the master of the
Columbia
. "It ain't the Cubans I'm talking
It ain't the Cubans I'm talking about now Page 44
about now. It's the teetotal busting up of the battleship
Maine
and the killing of I don't know how many of our gallant jack-tars! See here, the newspaper from San Francisco is full of it, with type six inches long!"
And Captain Ponsberry held up the sheet in question, so that not only Grandon but all the others might see the flaring head-lines.
THE MAINE BLOWN UP!
Total Destruction of Our Battleship in the
Harbor of Havana!
OVER TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY OFFICERS
AND SAILORS KILLED!
The Shock Comes at Night, and Without Warning. Captain
Sigsbee Safe, but Several Officers Known to be Lost.
A Partial List of the Saved Ones—How the
News Was Received at Washington.
THOUGHT TO BE THE WORK OF SPANISH
AGENTS.
Captain Sigsbee Telegraphs to Withhold Judgment—He Says,
"It is best not to think, it is best to know."
A whole page of reading followed, in smaller type, which Larry could not catch. The youth stared at the head-lines, with mouth agape, and instantly he thought of Ben and Walter, and what they had said about going to war. If this awful news was true, and the Spaniards were guilty, would war follow?
There was a second of silence, as the sailors read the lines, a silence broken by Tom Grandon. "Tell you what, this is awful, simply awful, Nat! And they say the Spaniards did it?