tv I ^ w^y^^f ^ ^ ^ ^ N . > - I THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES SAILOR-BOY BOB, BY REV. EDWARD A. RAND, AUTHOR OF " UP-THE-LADDER CLUB SERIES : " " THE KNIGHTS OF THB WHITE SHIELD," "THE SCHOOL IN THE LIGHT-HOUSE," "YARD- STICK AND SCISSORS," " THE CAMP AT SURF BLUFF," AND " OUT OF THS BREAKERS ;" "ART SERIES;" "SCHOOL AND CAMP SERIES: " " PUSHING AHEAD, OR, BIG BROTHER DAVE," " ROY'S DORY AT THE SEA-SHORE," AND " LITTLK BROWN-TOP ;" " BARK CABIN ON KEARSARGE," " FIGHTING THE SEA," ETC., ETC. NEW YORK: PHILLIPS &> HUNT. CINCINNA Tit CRANSTON & STOWE. Copyright, 1887, by PHILLIPS & HUNT, New York. -RI535 CONTENTS. CHAPTER PAGE I. CAN Go IF HE WISH. 5 II. HE CHOOSES TO Go 19 III. WANTED, MITTENS 32 IV. GETTING His SEA-LEGS ON 52 V. AT THE WALKER HOME 65 VI. ASHORE STILL 88 VII. DOWN THE ATLANTIC 101 VIII. MIGHT TRY 118 IX. ROUND THE NUB OF A CONTINENT 136 X. A CLOUD THAT GROWS 156 XI. A BREAK IN THE CLOUD 168 XII. THERE SHE BLOWS ! 180 XIII. SOUNDING A MYSTERY 193 XIV. THE SHIP MUST BE LIGHTENED 208 XV. How ? 224 XVI. ADRIFT 242 XVII. A WONDERFUL MEETING 275 XVIII. A SAIL ! A SAIL ! 289 XIX. A WRECK THAT WAS NOT A WRECK 306 XX. ASSAULT ONE 319 XXI. CLIMBING A GENEALOGICAL TREE 330 XXII. FROM GOOD TO BETTER, FROM BAD TO WORSE... 345 SAILOR-BOY BOB. CHAPTEK I. CAN GO IF HE WISH. " T)LEASE say that again, Squire "Winthrop," X said Bob Walker, looking up from his spade that he had just thrust fnto one of the squire's old-fashioned garden beds. The squire smiled. "Want to hear it again, Bob ? Why, it was not so wonderful. I said if you wanted the chance to go to sea you could have it in the whaler, the Andromeda. The same offer is open to my young relative, Ralph." Bob could hardly repress his excitement. He lifted his hands from the old spade. He lifted his eyes up to the old clock-dial on the stone church down on the main business street of Old- buryport. Ten minutes more, and the tired, sleepy hands would be folded at twelve for a moment's halt and a moment's nap. \ " I I wish you would let me off now, and I Q SAILOK-BOT BOB. will make up the ten minutes this afternoon," said Bob,. trying to speak deliberately, but feel- ing somewhat like a volcano that is trying to de- liver its lava with dignified composure. "O, you need not make it up, and if you would* like to go home now, do so, Bob. That is all right." " Thank you," said Bob. Another second, not minute, he was flying out of that old-fashioned garden, Squire Win- throp laughing away quietly as he watched him. " What a Bob ! Didn't go out of the gate, did he ? Took a short cut back of the barn ! " thought the squire. " A short cut ! " How could Bob possibly have gone home the usual way ? It seemed to him as if he would have died on that long route down " Winthrop Court " into Central Street, and then through Parker Street to Spinks's Al- ley. He went by the shortest possible way. Back of the squire's barn, then through a yard back of a big brick block, into the back door of Simile's apothecary-store (" Charlie Lambert, the clerk, will let me," reasoned Bob), through the store, out upon Central Street, through Central Street Court, over two fences and through two CAN Go IF HE WISH. 7 vacant lots into Parker Street, and then into Spinks's Alley, on which lived the Walkers in a humble house. He turned the corner of Parker Street and rushed so rapidly into Spinks's Al- ley that he almost upset fat, puffing Mrs. Bar- tram, her arms full of bags of candy and peanuts destined for her stand at the corner of Parker and Central. " Eh eh look out, young man ! " screamed the one-cent merchant, staggering back from a blow that might have given her a life-long trouble, if it had not been for the barricade of bags in her arms. " Mind who you are hitting ! " "I I beg pardon," said Bob, turning to look, but not stopping. The door of his home was open, and an odor of a fry escaped into the street. " Fried haddock ! " Bob would have said any other day, but to-day his thought was whether it might not be " fried whale ! " That was the kind of fish now to be borne in mind. Through this opened door, into the entry and then into the sitting-room he rushed, and finally into the kitchen. There before the stove was a girl with a bright, handsome face and a cloud of glossy brown curls. This was Alma, the oldest dangh- 8 SAILOR-BOY BOB. ter "Alma the beautiful and Alma the blessed," her father would have said called Alma because but I must not stop now to give the reason of her name. Bob wants to speak. I will keep him waiting long enough to say that several young Walkers, male and female, were coming into the kitchen by another door, hav- ing just arrived from school. Mrs. "Walker sat by an open window for two reasons : to get " a sniff of pure air," as she declared, and also sniff her camphor-bottle. She was a weakly woman, with the look of a probable invalid. Mr. Sar- dinius Walker, a man with a rather dark, vision- ary face, as if he might be fond of contemplative moods, and moods not always hopeful, appeared at a door in a corner. Here it was that the back chamber stairs touched the kitchen floor. His arms were full of shoes that he had been cob- bling in the garret. Alma ceased to watch her fish. The school children halted on the threshold, Mrs. Walker let her camphor-bottle fall into her lap, and the burdened cobbler almost dropped his shoes when Bob burst into the kitchen, pant- ing, perspiring, and gasping : " Folks folks I've got a chance to go a-whaling if you are willing." CAN Go IF HE WISH. 9 " Got a chance to what ? " asked his father in astonishment. " Dear me ! a-whaling ? " exclaimed Alma, al- lowing her fish to burn. " You crazy f " said his mother to Bob. "I'll tell in just three minutes," said Bob excitedly, looking round wildly. *' I want to go to the wharf. Have dinner ready, wont you, Alma, when T get back ? " Out of the house Bob rushed again. "Why, Sardinius," said Mrs. Walker to her husband, " what does Bob mean ? " " I only know what he said, wife." "You haven't put him up to any thing?" she asked, knowing her husband's fondness for schemes, and especially one as foolhardy as, to her mind, this going after whales promised to be. "Why, Cynthy, of course not. What do you mean ? " said her husband reprovingly. "Alma, that fish is burning," remarked Mrs. Walker, preferring to change the subject. The daughter did not seem to hear. She stood in the smoky atmosphere, knife and fork in hand, a dazed look in her soft, lustrous eyes. " Alma, that fish is burning," said her mother, more emphatically. 10 SAILOE-BOY BOB. " O h h ! " exclaimed the startled girl, re- turning to her charge. u Bob almost took my senses away. Father, you suppose Bob means that ? " " I don't know, daughter." " I know ; and I promise you it will turn out that he has gone down to see that old whaler," said the mother. Mrs. Walker's guess was correct. Bob went to see a sailor acquaintance, Horace Haviland, on board the Andromeda which was lying at a near wharf. Bob wished to say this : " Perhaps perhaps I may go with yon. Squire Win- throp says I may ; and perhaps Ralph Winthrop may go." " Good for you, Bob 1 'Twill make a man of you," replied the weather-beaten sailor, leaning over the freshly painted rail of the Andromeda. "I thought you would like to know," said the enthusiastic Bob, halting one moment on the wharf. Turning about he ran home. "Now, Bob, tell us what you mean," said Alma, as she landed in his plate his share of the burned haddock. "You almost frightened us out of our wits." CAN Go IF HE WISH. 11 She did not say, " You are responsible for this burned fish." It was not her style. Bob proceeded to eat his dinner, and at the same time tell what he did mean ; what Squire Winthrop said to him, and what he would like to do. Then he waited for the opinion of the family. " Now I see, Robert," remarked his father. " We can think it over." " It will need a good deal of thinking, in my opinion," said his mother. Alma made no remark, but that evening she and Bob stayed in the kitchen when the others had retired, and talked the new project over. It was raining. The night was a chilly one in - April, and the two sat by the stove. " Now, Alma, I suppose you think I am rather rash in my ideas, but I don't believe it is rash, though I know I tumbled in and out of the house this morning like a madman this noon, I mean. But, you see, I have been think- ing. I have got through school. Seventeen, you know, and I really don't know what to do. I don't seem to take to business as yet, and really I can't get a chance to go into a store. There is nothing permanent that seems to offer itself, 12 SAILOK-BOY BOB. no good opening I know of. I believe Stiggins wants a boy " "Don't you go into Stiggins's even if we have to go to the poor-house," declared Alma warmly. " He sells rum." "I knew you wouldn't like that. Then I don't fancy a trade, you know. Really, I have said to myself more than once, ' Bob, why don't you try going to sea ? ' It is tough, you know. I don't expect an easy time, but then I must do something. Father, you know " " Poor father ! " sighed Alma. " Say," asked Bob, " where did he get those shoes to mend ? Did he pick them up in the neighborhood, and will he get pay for them ? " Alma must have had a bird-cage in her throat, for the canaries seemed to sing when she 9 O laughed, and she now laughed heartily. " They are our children's shoes, Bob, and I believe he has a pair of yours and mine. He came and held up mine, and said, ' See, Alma, I have not tried shoemaking since I was a young man, and I am pleased to know I have not lost all my knack yet. Now I don't think you will have wet feet any longer when it rains, Alma.' Poor father ! Wasn't he kind ? No, he won't CAN Go IF HE WISH. 13 get any pay for his cobbling, but he will have to pay out money for his stock." Bob sprang up from his chair and walked about the kitchen. " There, Alma ! That is just what takes hold of me. Seventeen ; and I ought to be doing something more than digging Squire Winthrop's garden to-day, and perhaps writing for him to- morrow, and the third day not having a thing to do. Now, if I go off. in that whaler, there will be steady wages coming in. Perhaps I can fix it with Squire Winthrop so that the family can have some of my pay and draw it while I am gone. Don't you see, Alma ? " " Yes," said Alma, sorrowfully, fastening her dark eyes on the stove. " Fire almost out, Alma ? " " Yes," she said laughingly, " every thing is almost out in this house. But there, I do know where one stick more is out in the back entry. Ted wanted to make a boat of it and pitch it into the dock, and I said, ' No, young man, that is precious.' " " Good for you, Alma ! If it wasn't for you, what would become of us all ? " In a very natural way Alma deprecated this 14 SAILOK-BOY BOB. remark, and said "it was no such thing." Then she added a word for her father that she believed he would yet get something to do. " I dare say," remarked Bob ; " but then, you know, father hasn't a regular trade or been edu- cated to business. However, we will hope." That gratified Alma. She abounded in hope, even as the Atlantic Ocean in water. People that were in the depths of any trouble liked to talk with Alma. She could see a light down in the dark pit of their misery if any body could. " Yes ! " she now exclaimed, " father will get something to do, I know. And. Bob, if if it is best for you to go whaling, I will make the best of it. How long will you be gone ? " " Well, Captain Gran by says that vessels are apt to be gone for several years, but if he can get back in two years or less he would like it." " 0, well, that won't be forever, and we will make the best of it. Any of the Oldburyport boys going with you ? " " Squire Winthrop said Kalph might go." Alma gave a little start. Bob could not see this, as the kitchen was quite dark. There was no lamp, and for a good reason. The lamps in the house were not numerous, and they CAN Go IF HE WISH. 15 were all up-stairs, and only flashes from the fire in the stove played through the openings in the door upon the uncarpeted floor and low ceiling. No, Bob did not see that little nervous move- ment by Alma when he said Ralph might go. Alma and Ralph moved in very different circles in society, and only met as Ralph might appear at the Walkers' humble door and inquire for Bob. True, some of the old gossips that had tongues warranted to run forever did say that Ralph called when Bob could not possibly be at home, and that they had seen Alma slyly look at the Winthrops' pew in church. But then Ralph might have an errand with Ted Walker or Billy or Carrie, and as for that church mat- ter, why, Ralph wore a very graceful circular cloak, fashionable in those days, and it naturally would attract the notice of Alma, a girl who liked to see graceful things. Besides, Ralph's fine, classical face had a rather sickly look, for he was not very robust, and this state of things would naturally excite the compassionate inter- est of a warm-hearted girl like Alma. If there had been any thing significant in Ralph's fre- quent calls or in Alma's very modest and stealthy glances in church, would not Bob have 16 SAILOE-BOY BOB. noticed it? He certainly suspected nothing. He now remarked : " Yes, the squire said Kalph might go, and I hope he will." "Might" and "could" are two different words, and " could " would have been the proper word here. All that the squire said was that the offer made to Bob was open to Ralph also. Ralph therefore could go, and yet might not. The way Alma understood it, the prospect was that Ralph both could and might go. She breathed a long sigh, but the crackling of the wood in the stove and the drip of the rain on a shelf outside the window smothered the sound of this heavy breathing. She felt that in resign- ing Bob to the whales she had cast overboard a treasure, and she was now preparing to make another surrender. " So you see, Alma," said Bob, returning to the subject of his own course of action, " it is really best if father and mother are willing best for me to go, though I know that whaling is any thing but eay work. You wont have my big appetite to satisfy, and my bed to make, and" " 0, Bob, don't think it is hard ! " CAN