For answer Starbuck grabbed for the chains with the boathook. A spade smashed down upon it and knocked it out of his hand. The sheets of the Battles had been trimmed in, she heeled to the breeze, began to gather speed, and was slowly passing the bow of the boat. Starbuck leaped, landed on her wales, and had one leg over the rail before the men on the Battles knew what he was after. Before he could get the other leg over, three men seized him; I saw them struggle with him for an instant, break his hold on the rail, and throw him into the sea. The Battles was now well under way, the boat was fast dropping astern, and Starbuck was in the water. Mr. Macy was not quite up, and it was a hopeless chase from the start, but both boats tried to make a race of it for a quarter of a mile. When they gave it up, and stopped rowing, I saw Wallet come out from behind the quarter boat, where he had been standing, hidden from us, and take his place at the topsail. It was too far to see clearly without a glass what he was doing there, but he seemed to put his thumb to his nose at Mr. Baker and the captain. That was too much for me, and I laughed until I nearly had hysterics, it was so like him. The boats lay there for some time, the men all watching the Battles fast disappearing in the distance. Then they pulled slowly back to the ship. Starbuck had swum to the ship, and stood dripping beside me, watching the Battles with sober eyes. When I laughed so immoderately, he turned his eyes upon me with disapproval, but he {204} took the contagion, and, much against his will, he was forced to smile. “But it ’s no laughing matter, Tim,” he said. “I ’d like to know what ’s wrong on that vessel. There ’s something wrong. I know Fred Coffin well. We live only a few doors apart—only two houses between us, and we were at school together. He is n’t so much older than me; three years, about. I hope nothing ’s happened to him.” “Why,” I said, “what could happen to him—on his own vessel?” “Anything,” Starbuck answered. “Anything at all. Ever hear the story of the ship Junior and Cap’n Arch Mellen? It happened in fifty-eight, or fifty-seven, but it ’s all true, and it might happen now—any time, unless men’s hearts are changed.” “Tell me,” I said eagerly. “I never heard of it; I never even heard of the ship Junior.” He smiled down at me; after all, not so much down, for I was nearly as tall as he. “There ’s a good many ships you never heard of, I guess. I ’ll tell you the story of the ship Junior, the first chance I get. The boats are coming back now, and I want to get into dry clothes.” By the time the boats were on the davits the Battles was more than hull down to the southward, and was fast sinking her topsails. {205} CHAPTER XXI