"I can't say. I will, if I get a charter. But, being short handed, I'd like to have a good, active, stout lad, like you, and will give you ordinary seamen's wages. Haven't been much to sea, have you?" "No, sir; but I'm not a bad schooner sailor, and can reef and steer." "Well, I don't want any shilly-shally! Say yes or no. I have my clearance, and here comes the tug to take me down the Sound." "Well, yes, then." And so it came about that Lee found himself, within half an hour, bound down for Hatteras Inlet and thence for Havana, when he had only started from home to go halibut fishing! CHAPTER VII. In a day or two after the vessel got to sea the mates got better and went to duty, and the skipper seemed to take a pleasure in abusing and worrying them, although it was evident from their appearance that they had suffered severely from the swamp fever, and had not been shamming, as the captain intimated. In fact, the latter turned out to be a regular sea-tyrant, and Lee soon found that life under him would be intolerable. The crew were a mixed lot, mostly Norwegians and Dagos, whom the captain had shipped at low wages. Some of them hardly understood a word of English; and before the week was out the captain almost killed a poor Portuguese by striking him with a belaying-pin because he misunderstood an order while at the wheel. That night the second-mate talked to Lee during his watch, and asked him how he came to ship. Lee told him his story. "Well, my lad, my advice to you is to run away as soon as we reach Havana. The captain is also part owner, and he will never pay you any wages, if by any chance he can avoid it, while he is likely to do you harm if you cross him." "Why do you stop on board?" asked Lee. "Because he owes me several months' wages, and I cannot afford to lose it. But you mind what I tell you, and get away the first chance." Among the crew of the Traveler, Lee had found a Cuban lad of about his own age, named Diego, whom Captain Bristol had inveigled into shipping as a cabin-boy, on a previous voyage to Havana. He had been five or six months on board the vessel, and began to speak English pretty fluently, but in a broken way, and with many sailor expressions. One evening, at sea, he came up to Lee and said: "My name is Diego. What is your name?" Lee told him. [Illustration: DIEGO AND LEE LOOKED AT EACH EACH OTHER AS MUCH AS TO SAY, "WHY WOULDN'T WE DO?"] "I came from Havana. Where did you come from?" Lee related his story in a few words. "Just the same with me," said Diego, when he had finished. "I've got no father, no mother; but I'll not stop here. The captain treats me like a slave. When we get to Havana, we go ashore, eh?" Lee had for some time thought he had better get out of the Traveler, if he could only see his way to do so. But he said: