The Ocean Cat's Paw Part 14

"Somebody wants to see you, sir, if you please."

"Then tell somebody I don't please," said the doctor shortly.

"Yes, sir," said the maid, going.

"No, stop! I don't want to be rude, even if people have put me out.

What does Mrs Somebody want?"

"Please, sir, it isn't a Mrs, it's a Mister," said the girl.

"Go and see him, Rodd," said the doctor shortly. "I expect it's somebody wants subscriptions, and I haven't got any."

"Please, sir," interposed the maid, "the--er--gent--person--said he'd heard say that you wanted a captain."

Uncle Paul grunted, frowned, and then in a surly tone exclaimed--

"Well, there, show him in."

The next minute the maid re-opened the door, showing in a heavy, sun-tanned, middle-aged man, who thrust the cap he carried into the yawning pocket of a dark blue pea-jacket, stared hard at the doctor, glanced at Rodd, and then turning sharply on his heels he stood with his back to the latter, stiff, squared, and st.u.r.dy, looking as the boy thought like a hop-sack set on end, and stared at the maid where she stopped, literally fixing her with his eyes for a few moments, before, quite startled at the fierceness of his gaze, she darted out, closing the door loudly.

"Business. Private!" literally growled the visitor.

"Well, what is it?" said the doctor shortly.

"'Eard you wanted a skipper, and come up."

"Well," said Uncle Paul, looking very hard at his unprepossessing visitor, while Rodd felt as if he wanted to laugh, but held the desire in check, "I may want one by and by, and a crew too; but I must have a s.h.i.+p first."

"What sort?"

"Well, you are pretty blunt," said the doctor.

"Yes," said the visitor, with a nod; and he waited, but turned his eyes from the doctor and looked very hard at the nearest chair.

"Ah, yes," said the doctor. "Sit down, Captain--Captain--"

The doctor waited for an answer, but the only answer made was by a movement, his visitor taking two steps towards the chair, and plumping down so heavily that the bra.s.s casters creaked.

The doctor glanced at his nephew, and then at the stranger, who seemed to be frowning at him with all his might.

"Er--what did you say your name was, captain?"

"Didn't say," said the visitor huskily. "Wanter know?"

"Well--yes," said the doctor. "I don't see how we are to transact business without."

"Chubb, Jonathan."

"Well, Captain Chubb?"

"Plymouth."

"Oh, I see; Captain Chubb, of Plymouth," continued the doctor.

"Right. Go on."

"Well, I gave you to understand that I wanted a s.h.i.+p before I engaged a captain."

"Skipper; not R.N."

"I see; but I wished to be polite," said the doctor.

"Skipper," grunted the man.

"Where have you sailed?" asked the doctor.

"Everywhere."

"Ah! Then you have had plenty of experience."

The visitor nodded, and the doctor was going to speak again, but the visitor interposed with a sidewise nod in the direction of Rodd, and said--

"Your boy?"

"Well, yes, in a way," replied the doctor.

The captain grunted.

"Boys always are," he said, and Rodd turned upon him angrily.

"I said in _a_ way, not in _the_ way," muttered the doctor.

"'Most the same," growled the captain. "A boy, the boy, means boy.

What sort of a s.h.i.+p? First, where do you want to go?"

"I don't quite know myself," replied the doctor, "so we will say as you did, everywhere."

"Right," said the captain. "What for?"

"Why do you ask?" replied the doctor, rather tartly.

"Had four offers. Wouldn't take them."

"Why?" asked the doctor.

"Smuggling contraband."

"Oh, I see," said the doctor quickly. "Well, it's nothing of that sort."