"You was a gentleman's son.
But we've had good times together--ay, and hard times, too." He shook his
head dolefully.
All who were left of the old crew gathered round me while I closed my
chest, and Blodgett and Davie Paine seized the beckets before I knew what
they were about and carried it to my stateroom.
As I passed the galley the cook stopped me. "You ain't gwine far, sah,
praise de Lo'd!" he said. "Dah's a hot time ahead and we gotta stand one by
anotheh. Ah's gwine keep my eye on dat yeh man f'om Boston. Yass, sah! Ah's
gwine keep mah eye on him."
Now what did the cook mean by that, I wondered. But no answer suggested
itself to me, and when I entered the cabin I heard things that drove the
cook and the man from Boston far out of my mind.
"Kipping!" Mr. Cledd, the new chief mate was saying. "Not _William_
Kipping?"
Roger got down the attested copy of the articles and pointed at the neatly
written name: "William Kipping."
Mr. Cledd looked very grave indeed. "I've heard of Falk--he's a vicious
scoundrel in some ways, although too weak to be dangerous of his own
devices But I _know_ Kipping."
"Tell me about him,' said Roger.
"Kipping is the meanest, doggonedest, low-down wharf-runner that ever
robbed poor Jack of his wages.
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