“Eri,” he said dejectedly, “I don't know what I'm goin' to do with that boy. He's too many for ME, that boy is. Seems he's been plannin' this runnin' away bus'ness for more 'n a month; been doin' errands and odd jobs 'round town and savin' up his money on purpose. Says he won't go back to school again, no matter what we do to him, and that he's goin' to git into the Navy if it takes ten year. He says he'll run away again fust chance he gits, and he WILL, too. He's got the sperit of the Old Scratch in him, and I can't git it out. I'm clean discouraged and wore out, and I know that he'll do somethin' pretty soon that 'll disgrace us all.” “Humph!” exclaimed his friend. “Stuffy as all that, is he? You don't say! He ain't a bad boy, that is a REEL bad boy, either.” “No, that's jest it. He ain't reel bad--yit. But he will be if he ain't fetched up pretty sudden. 'Course, I know what he needs is to be made to mind fust, and then preached to afterwards. And I know that nat'rally I'm the one that ought to do it, but I jest can't--there! If I should start out to give him the dressin' down he needs, I'd be thinkin' of his mother every minute, and how I promised to treat him gentle and not be cross to him. But SOMETHIN'S got to be done, and if you can help me out any way I'll never forgit it, Eri.” Captain Eri scratched his chin. “Humph!” he grunted reflectively. “He couldn't git into the Navy, he's too young. More likely to be a stowaway on a merchantman and then roustabout on a cattle boat, or some such thing. Even if he lied 'bout his age and did git to be a sort of a ship's boy on a sailin' vessel, you and me know what that means nowadays. I presume likely 'twould end in his bein' killed in some rumshop scrimmage later on. Let--me--see. Bound to be a sailor, is he?” “He's dead sot on it.” “More fool he. Comes from readin' them ridic'lous story books, I s'pose. He ain't been on the water much sence he's been down here, has he?” “Not more 'n once or twice, except in a dory goin' to the beach, or somethin' like that.” “That's so, that's what I thought. Well, Perez, I'll tell you. The boy does need breakin' in, that's a fact, and I think maybe I could do it. I could use a young feller on my boat; to go coddin' with me, I mean. Let me have the boy under me--no meddlin' from anybody--for a couple of months. Let him sign reg'lar articles and ship 'long of me for that time. Maybe I could make a white man of him.” “I don't b'lieve he'd do it.” “I cal'late I could talk him into it. There's some butter on my tongue when it's necessary.” “You'd have to promise not to lay a hand on him in anger. That's what I promised his mother.” “All right, I promise it now. That's all right, Perez. You and me are old shipmates, and bound to help each other out. Just trust him to me, and don't ask too many questions. Is it a trade? Good! Shake.”