"No," Sukey answered. "He has made my sides ache."
Next day found the westerners on board the schooner sailing out from
the harbor of New York. The skipper was half tipsy, his crew
insubordinate, and for awhile no one seemed to know or care whither they
went. The captain had such frequent recourse to his demijohn, that it
was evident that he would soon be wholly unfit for duty. At last
Terrence declared he would have to take matters in hand himself.
The sea was rough, and both Fernando and Sukey were too sick to leave
their bunks long at the time.
"Jist ye lie still there, like a darlint, and lave the skipper to me,"
said Terrence to Fernando. "Not another divil of a drop shall he have,
until we are safe in Baltimore."
Then he went away, leaving Fernando wholly in ignorance of his plan. At
last, becoming anxious about him, he went out to see what he was doing.
The schooner was rolling heavily and Fernando was so sick he could
scarcely stand, yet he crept out under the lee of the cabin and saw a
sight that made him smile.
Terrence and the captain were sitting on the deck playing cards. The
young Irishman had won two demijohns and three jugs of rum from the
captain, and he was now playing for the last pint flask the skipper
possessed. The young Irishman won it and carried his property to his
stateroom, and when the skipper next applied for a drink,
Malone answered:
"Divil a drop will ye get, till we are safe in Baltimore.
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