“Here’s a new shipmate for you, my lads. He’s small, but he’s the right stuff.” The newcomer drew himself up, and regarded the crew with some dissatisfaction. For desperadoes they looked far too good-tempered and prone to levity. “What’s the matter with you, Jem Smithers?” inquired the skipper, scowling at a huge fair-haired man, who was laughing discordantly. “I was thinkin’ o’ the last party I killed, sir,” said Jem, with sudden gravity. “I allers laugh when I think ’ow he squealed.” “You laugh too much,” said the other sternly, as he laid a hand on Ralph’s shoulder. “Take a lesson from this fine fellow; he don’t laugh. He acts. Take ’im down below an’ show him ’is bunk.” “Will you please to follow me, sir?” said Smithers, leading the way below. “I dessay you’ll find it a bit stuffy, but that’s owing to Bill Dobbs. A regler old sea-dog is Bill, always sleeps in ’is clothes and never washes.” “I don’t think the worse of him for that,” said Ralph, regarding the fermenting Dobbs kindly. “You’d best keep a civil tongue in your ’ed, my lad,” said Dobbs shortly. “Never mind ’im,” said Smithers cheerfully; “nobody takes any notice o’ old Dobbs. You can ’it ’im if you like. I won’t let him hurt you.” “I don’t want to start by quarreling,” said Ralph seriously. “You’re afraid,” said Jem tauntingly; “you’ll never make one of us. ’It ’im; I won’t let him hurt you.” Thus aroused, the boy, first directing Dobbs’ attention to his stomach by a curious duck of his head, much admired as a feint in his neighborhood, struck him in the face. The next moment the forecastle was in an uproar and Ralph prostrate on Dobbs’ knees, frantically reminding Jem of his promise. “All right, I won’t let him ’urt you,” said Jem consolingly. “But he _is_ hurting me,” yelled the boy. “He’s hurting me _now_.” “Well, wait till I get ’im ashore,” said Jem, “his old woman won’t know him when I’ve done with him.” The boy’s reply to this was a torrent of shrill abuse, principally directed to Jem’s facial short-comings. “Now don’t get rude,” said the seaman, grinning. “Squint eyes,” cried Ralph fiercely. “When you’ve done with that ’ere young gentleman, Dobbs,” said Jem, with exquisite politeness. “I should like to ’ave ’im for a little bit to teach ’im manners.” “’E don’t want to go,” said Dobbs, grinning as Ralph clung to him. “He knows who’s kind to him.” “Wait till I get a chance at you,” sobbed Ralph, as Jem took him away from Dobbs. “Lord lumme,” said Jem, regarding him in astonishment. “Why, he’s actooaly cryin’. I’ve seen a good many pirates in my time, Bill, but this is a new sort.” “Leave the boy alone,” said the cook, a fat, good-natured man. “Here, come ’ere, old man. They don’t mean no ’arm.” Glad to escape, Ralph made his way over to the cook, grinding his teeth with shame as that worthy took him between his knees and mopped his eyes with something which he called a handkerchief.