"I've got no quarrel with you, my lad," the boy remarked with dignity,
as he caught the new cook's eye.
"Go and cook the dinner,'" said the skipper; "and look sharp about it. I
don't want to have to find fault with a young beginner like you; but I
don't have no shirkers aboard--understand that."
For one moment of terrible suspense the skipper's life hung in the
balance, then the "Bruiser," restraining his natural instincts by a
mighty effort, retreated, growling, to the galley.
The skipper's breath came more freely.
"He don't know your address, I s'pose," said the mate.
"No, but he'll soon find it out when we get ashore," replied the other
dolefully. "When I think that I've got to take that brute to my home to
make mischief I feel tempted to chuck him overboard almost."
"It is a temptation," agreed the mate loyally, closing his eyes to his
chief's physical deficiencies. "I'll pass the word to the crew not to
let him know your address, anyhow."
The morning passed quietly, the skipper striving to look unconcerned as
the new cook grimly brought the dinner down to the cabin and set it
before him. After toying with it a little while, the master of the
Frolic dined off buttered biscuit.
It was a matter of much discomfort to the crew that the new cook took
his duties very seriously, and prided himself on his cooking.
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