"Now, my lads," said I, "this is a scoundrel who fell in with some of us when we were in distress, after we had lost our vessel. Instead of behaving as one seaman does to another, he robbed us of all we had, and turned us adrift naked to be killed by the Indians. Of all, I and the two Portuguese you took on board about four months back are the only three left: the others perished. The one who was with me was burnt to death by the Indians, and I narrowly escaped. I leave you to decide what this scoundrel merits." "But there is more against him, captain," said the men, and then four of them stepped out and declared that he had run away with the money belonging to the crew of which they were a part, and that the sum he had stolen amounted to 25,000 dollars. "What have you to say for yourself?" said I to him. "That I've been a cursed fool to be caught as I have been." "What will they do, father?" "Hang us, I suppose," replied he. "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.