"Captain Toplift," said I, "I do not command this vessel, and I shall therefore leave you to decide upon the fate of this miscreant;" and having said that, I was going below to the cabin, when the captain of the Transcendant's son ran to me, and said, "I want to speak to you, Sir, when you are alone." "What are you after, Peleg?" cried his father. "I'm going to save your life, father, if I can," replied he. "You'll be clever if you do that, boy," said the man, sneeringly. I allowed the boy to follow me down into the cabin, and then asked him what he had to say. "I have that to tell you which is of more value than the lives of a hundred boys like me." "Boys like you? Why I thought it was to save your father's life that you came down, Sir?" "Pooh!" said he, "let him hang; he was born for a halter. I am come to save my own life. I only said that to gammon him." "You're a hopeful youth," said I; "and pray what is that you can tell me that will save your own neck from the halter?" "That which will save your own, most likely," replied the boy, "and tit-for-tat's all fair." "Well, let's hear it, then," replied I. "No, not unless you promise. I can swing, if need be, as well as father, but I'd rather not, 'cause I know where all his money is hidden." "I can't make any promise," replied I. "Then I can't tell," replied he, "so I may e'en go on deck and tell father that I cannot manage it;" and as he said the latter part of this speech, the undaunted little villain actually laughed at the idea of gammoning his father, as he termed it. Train up a child in the way he should go, and he will not depart from it, is mostly true; but it is more certain that if you train a child up in the way that he should not go, he will be a more true disciple. Could there be a more decided proof of the above than the behaviour of this young villain? but his father had made him so, and thus was he rewarded. "Stop," said I, for I had reflected whether, after all, there were any grounds for hanging the boy, and come to a conclusion that a jury would have probably acquitted him. "Stop," said I; "you say that what you can tell is of the greatest consequence." "And becomes of more consequence every minute that passes," replied he. "I will tell you every thing, and let you into father's secrets. I peach upon father altogether." "Well, then," replied I, "if what you have to disclose proves important, I will do all I can to save your life, and I have no doubt that I shall be able so to do."