* * * * * * * *
Five minutes later, as the crew gathered aft were curiously eyeing the
foc's'le, Mrs. Harbolt and the skipper came on deck. To the great
astonishment of the mate, the eyes of the redoubtable woman were
slightly wet, and, regardless of the presence of the men, she clung
fondly to her husband as they walked slowly to the cabin. Ere they went
below, however, she called the grinning Jemmy to her, and, to his
private grief and public shame, tucked his head under her arm and kissed
him fondly.
IN LIMEHOUSE REACH
It was the mate's affair all through. He began by leaving the end of a
line dangling over the stern, and the propeller, though quite
unaccustomed to that sort of work, wound it up until only a few fathoms
remained. It then stopped, and the mischief was not discovered until the
skipper had called the engineer everything that he and the mate and
three men and a boy could think of. The skipper did the interpreting
through the tube which afforded the sole means of communication between
the wheel and the engine-room, and the indignant engineer did the
listening.
The Gem was just off Limehouse at the time, and it was evident she was
going to stay there. The skipper ran her ashore and made her fast to a
roomy old schooner which was lying alongside a wharf.
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