Adventure stories; American fiction -- 20th century
Ten days after they brought him up from the hold Billy was limping
about the deck of the Halfmoon doing light manual labor. From the other
sailors aboard he learned that he was not the only member of the crew
who had been shanghaied. Aside from a half-dozen reckless men from the
criminal classes who had signed voluntarily, either because they could
not get a berth upon a decent ship, or desired to flit as quietly from
the law zone of the United States as possible, not a man was there who
had been signed regularly.
They were as tough and vicious a lot as Fate ever had foregathered in
one forecastle, and with them Billy Byrne felt perfectly at home. His
early threats of awful vengeance to be wreaked upon the mate and skipper
had subsided with the rough but sensible advice of his messmates. The
mate, for his part, gave no indication of harboring the assault that
Billy had made upon him other than to assign the most dangerous or
disagreeable duties of the ship to the mucker whenever it was possible
to do so; but the result of this was to hasten Billy's nautical
education, and keep him in excellent physical trim.
All traces of alcohol had long since vanished from the young man's
system. His face showed the effects of his enforced abstemiousness in
a marked degree. The red, puffy, blotchy complexion had given way to a
clear, tanned skin; bright eyes supplanted the bleary, bloodshot things
that had given the bestial expression to his face in the past. His
features, always regular and strong, had taken on a peculiarly refined
dignity from the salt air, the clean life, and the dangerous occupation
of the deep-sea sailor, that would have put Kelly's gang to a pinch to
have recognized their erstwhile crony had he suddenly appeared in their
midst in the alley back of the feed-store on Grand Avenue.
With the new life Billy found himself taking on a new character. He
surprised himself singing at his work--he whose whole life up to now had
been devoted to dodging honest labor--whose motto had been: The
world owes me a living, and it's up to me to collect it. Also, he was
surprised to discover that he liked to work, that he took keen pride in
striving to outdo the men who worked with him, and this spirit, despite
the suspicion which the captain entertained of Billy since the episode
of the forecastle, went far to making his life more endurable on board
the Halfmoon, for workers such as the mucker developed into are not to
be sneezed at, and though he had little idea of subordination it was
worth putting up with something to keep him in condition to work. It was
this line of reasoning that saved Billy's skull on one or two occasions
when his impudence had been sufficient to have provoked the skipper to
a personal assault upon him under ordinary conditions; and Mr. Ward,
having tasted of Billy's medicine once, had no craving for another
encounter with him that would entail personal conflict.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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