Motion Picture Story Magazine (Aug 1911-Jan 1912)

TEE BO'SUN'S WATCH 121 menter in high explosives, and watched his retreat from the wharf as patiently as he could. "Come, May," he said, "ye '11 be havin' enough of this glad welcome home business. I'm mindin' the cabin's the fittest place for ye." The distant figure of the Bo 'sun making for cover, caught his eye. ' ' Oh, Patrick ! " he shouted ; ' ' avast ye, mate ! ' ' but the flapping legs continued their retreat. "McBr-ride!" he bellowed, and the stout seaman halted. "Come back, man ; I 've a mission for ye. ' ' The perplexed Bo 'sun scratched his head and stood on wavering feet,' 'twas only on solemn occasions, or in the thick of dispute, that the captain called him by the clan name, so he faced about and came toward the schooner. * ' I 'm wantin ' ye to stand a watch, ' ' said the Captain, and, without more ado, led the wanderers back to the schooner's deck. May entered the cabin dutifully, and he, who had decreed no rest for the weary, turned the key in the lock. Coming on deck he presented it to the amazed Bo 'sun. In a few words he instructed him to keep watch over her, and on no account to permit her to leave the vessel until his return. "Mind ye," he said in parting, "ye 're very old to be play in' at nursie, an' it's the heart ye must mind as well as the body of her." McBride spat upon the deck in defiance of tidy seamanship, and hauled out the widow 's letter as a last appeal for liberty. The Captain glanced at it, and immediately made a malicious deduction. "Hoity-toity! ye 're too far gone in decrepitude for this sort of business, ' ' he said, climbing on the rail, out of reach. "Besides," he continued, "ye had better be warding the daughter below, than to be putting out with that dismasted cardiotomus of yours. ' ' With this final shot he disappeared over the rail, in the twilight. The Bo 'sun glared at the empty wharf, and gave vent to his feelings in words that sounded like the antics of home-made root-beer corks. Then, as he subsided on a coil of rope, his slandered heart beat again with the pulse of the young, against the signature of the waiting widow. And now, having scattered our characters, as in the old game of Anagrams, it is necessary to bring them together again in some sort of meaning. It must have been within an hour or so of eight o'clock, or at least the bell in the old town-hall had eight times emphatically sung so, when the love-lorn Bo 'sun was aroused from his meditations on the hard-heartedness of skippers and the rutty road of love, by a persistent knocking on the cabin door. "She'll be wantin' nursie," he said, in contemptuous remembrance of the Captain's designation. "If she wants to turn in, I '11 be durned if I'll sing 'Rock-a-bye, baby,' or any sich nonsince." The door-knob set up a nerve-racking clatter. "Hold hard; I'm comin' " he grumbled, and unlocking the door, he stuck his ruddy face thru its crack. May's impatience died down at the sight of it. "Why, Patrick!" she exclaimed in seeming wonder, "have you been out there all this time?" He looked at her in a puzzled manner. "There's much to be done about a boat, ' ' he said. ' ' Yur f aither left avrythin' to me." "I'm not going ashore tonight," she said, like one playing a part; "so perhaps you can take this note for me?" The Bo 'sun held the envelope gingerly, which she thrust at him. "You know your way about in the dark ? ' ' she queried solicitously. He seemed to choke over something, so she shut the door promptly and left him to himself. There is no use for even a Bo 'sun to mutter in the dark, and out on the wharf a lighted lantern winked at him in a friendly way. Once under it, he resorted to the consolatory headscratching.