"Gold? Why, how cud it 'a' been anything but solid gold? I cud lift that much lead easy. I stopped a minit and took out me knife, me mind made up to thry th' lock. I give wan good pick at ut, an' thin I hears a sort av grunt. There ware Trunnell a-lookin' right down at me from th' top av th' afther-companion.
"Sez he, 'An' what may ye be a-doin' wid th' old man's trunk,' sez he.
"'Sure 'tis me own I thought it ware, by th' weight av it,' sez I.
"'Is it so heavy, thin?' sez he.
"'Faith, ye thry an' lift it,' sez I.
"He come down th' ladder an' took a-hold, shutting th' door to keep th' steward from a-lookin' in. Thin he takes hold av th' thing an' lifts fer th' good av his soul. Nary a inch does it move.
"'I wud have opened it, but I heard th' captin's order not to disturb th' charts atop av it,' sez I.
"'Ye would, ye thafe,' sez he. 'An' if ye had, inter irons would ye go fer th' raskil ye are. I never thought ye ware so bad, Chips,' sez he.
"'Tis a victim av discipline I am, fer sure, thin,' sez I. 'Ye know I wud no more steal th' matther av a trunk than fly.'
"'An' who give ye th' order, ye disciplinarian?' sez he.
"'Me conscience,' sez I.
"'Ye better go forrads an' tell yer conscience th' fact that it's a bad wan fer an honest man to travel wid,' sez he. 'An' tell him also to mind what I says about obeyin' orders aboard this here ship. If yer conscience iver wants to command a ship, he don't want to forget that discipline is discipline, an' whin it comes to thavery, discipline will get ye both in irons. Slant away afore I loses my temper an' sails inter ye,' sez he.
"So here I am, all in a mess wid that little mate. But th' trunk av gold is safe on th' cabin floor."
I had nothing to say further than that the matter couldn't be helped. If the trunk was all right, we might land a fortune yet in the reward Jim had told us about. Jackwell must have made off with a snug little sum. I climbed over the side again with some of the skipper's clothes, and we started slowly back to the brig to get him.
Ford was rowing bow oar, and Johnson aft, and both rowing easily made us go very slow. However, there was no hurry. Jackwell would in all probability take several drinks after his bath, and we would only have to wait aboard the whaler for him until he was ready. The sea was so smooth that the boat hardly rippled through it, and the sun was warm, making me somewhat drowsy. The two men rowed in silence for some time, and then Ford suddenly looked ahead to see how we were going.
"What's the matter with the bloomin' brig?" said he, rowing with his chin on his shoulder.
I looked around, and it seemed as though we had already gone the full distance to her, and yet had as far again to go. The Pirate was certainly half a mile away and there was the brig still far ahead.
"Give way, bullies," I said. "Break an oar or two."
The men made a response to the order, and the boat went along livelier. I looked at the brig, and suddenly I noticed a thin trail of smoke coming from her maintop where the opening in the lower masthead should be.
We were now within fifty fathoms of her, when Jackwell came to the rail aft and looked at us.
"Give way, bullies, you're going to sleep." I said.
In a few moments we were close aboard, but as we came up, the brig slewed her stern toward us, and then I noticed for the first time that she was moving slowly through the water. There was no wind, and I knew in a moment that she was under steam. She drifted away faster, and the men had all they could do to keep up. Jackwell leaned over the taffrail and gazed calmly down at us.
"That's it, boys, give it to her. You'll soon catch us and be towing us back again. Sink me, Rolling, but you're the biggest fool I ever saw," he said.
I saw the water rippling away from the brig's side, and now could see the disturbance under her stern where a small wheel turned rapidly.
"Throw us a line," I cried to Jackwell.
"What d'ye want a line fer? Are ye a-going with us to the Pacific, or are ye jest naturally short of lines, hey?"
"Throw us a line or we'll have to quit," I cried; "the men can't keep up as it is."
Jackwell let down the end of the spanker sheet, and Ford grabbed it, taking a turn around the thwart. The boat still rushed rapidly along.
"Rolling," said the captain of the Pirate, "hadn't you better go home and tell Trunnell he wants you? Seems to me you'll have a long row back in the hot sun. I'd ask you all aboard, but this ship ain't mine. She belongs to a friend who owes me a little due, see? Now be a sensible little fellow. Rolling, and go back nicely, or I'll have to do some target practice, or else cut this rope. Give my kindest regards to the ladies, especially Mrs. Sackett. Tell her that I wouldn't have dreamed of deserting her under any other circumstances, but this brig has got the devil in her and is running away with me. I can't stop her, and I can't say I would if I could. That infernal King Neptune has got hold of her keel and is pulling us along. Good-by, Rolling; don't by any possible means disturb the charts on my trunk. There, let go, you Ford."
Ford cast the line adrift, and the boat's headway slacked. The brig drifted slowly ahead, going at least three knots through the smooth water. A long row of smiling faces showed over the rail as we came from under her stern. One fellow, waving his hand, cried out to report Bill Jones of Nantucket as "bein' tolerable well, thank ye." It was evident they knew nothing of Jackwell and treated the going of the brig as a good joke on greenhorns.
"That beats me," said Ford, panting from his last exertions.
"An' me too," said Johnson. "If we'd had Tom and one or two more along we'd have beat her easy. But ain't he a-comin' back at all at all?"
"I hardly think we'll see Captain Thompson any more this voyage," I answered savagely; "but by the Lord Harry, he's left his trunk all right."
XXIII
When we rowed back to the ship, Trunnell was looking at us through the glass up to the time we came under the _Pirate's_ counter. He evidently could see that our skipper wasn't with us, and it seemed as if he could not quite make up his mind to the fact, but must keep looking through the telescope as though the powerful glass would bring the missing one into view. We ran up to the channels, and he looked over the side. A line of heads in the waist told of the curiosity among the men forward.
I said nothing, and nothing was said until the painter was made fast and Ford had sprung on deck.
"He ain't with ye, Rolling?" asked Trunnell.
I was too much disgusted to answer. The empty boat was enough to satisfy any reasonable person.
Chips came to the rail and leaned over as I came up the chain-plates. "'Twas so, then? Th' raskil! But what makes th' bloody hooker move? She's slantin' away as if th' devil himself ware holdin' av her fore foot!"
"Steam, you poor idiots," I cried out, in disgust, for it was evident that even Trunnell couldn't tell what made the Shark get headway, although now the smoke poured handsomely from her masthead.
Trunnell scratched his bushy head and seemed to be thinking deeply. Then he put down the glasses and led the way aft without a word, Chips and I following. We went below and found Mrs. Sackett and Jennie in the saloon.
"Where's the captain?" they asked in a breath.
"Faith, an' he's changed ships, if ye please," said Chips.
"And left a little thing behind he would have liked to have taken with him," I said.
"What was the matter?" they both asked.
Chips and I tried to tell, but we soon made a tangle of it, the only thing coherent being the fact that the fellow was a crook and had left his trunk behind. This was so heavy that Chips had failed to lift it.
"I always knew he was not a sea-captain," cried Jennie. "I don't see how you men let him fool you so badly."