Page:Last Cruise of the Spitfire.djvu/65

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OR, LUKE FOSTER'S STRANGE VOYAGE.
59

As I came up, a man, whom I took to be the captain, came towards me. He was a tall, lank individual, with a red beard and hair. The look on his face was a sour one, and it was easy to see that he was not of a kindly nature.

"Hello, my hearty!" he exclaimed. "So you're up at last. Had quite a nap, didn't you?"

"Why was I brought on this ship?" I demanded.

"Why was you brought on board? Well, now, that's a mighty good one, smash the toplight if it isn't."

"You have no right to bring me on board," I went on, "and I want you to put me ashore at once."

The captain gave a scowl.

"See here, youngster, I don't allow any one on board to speak to me in that fashion. You've got to keep a civil tongue in your head."

"Why was I brought on board?"

"Because you belong here."

"I don't belong here."

"Oh, yes, you do."

"I'd like to know why. I never saw or heard of this vessel before."

"Come now, that's a good one. Didn't you sign papers with Lowell yesterday morning?"

This question astonished me in more ways than one. First, because I had not signed papers with