e says; `that's what I'm going to do.' `You are?' I
says. `I am,' he says; `for I'd sooner die o' thirst on the roaring
main,' he says, `than put up with any more.' You did, didn't you,
mate?" he cried, appealingly.

"I did," growled the carpenter; "and I stick to it."

"He said that as soon as it was dark he should manage to lower one of
the boats and follow yours, and ask you to take him as crew; and if you
wouldn't, he should go ashore and turn Robinson Crusoe."

"That's right, boy," said the carpenter; "and I would."

"And I says to him, sir, `Bill Cross,' I says, `if I tars myself black,
will you let me come with you and be your man Friday?'"

"And what did he say to that?" asked my uncle, frowning.

"Said I was black enough already, sir, without my having a black eye;
and if I come with him, he'd promise me never to behave half so bad as
the skipper did, so of course I come."

"Took one of the ship's boats and stole away with it?" said my uncle.

The boy nodded, and my uncle turned to the carpenter.

"Is this all true?" he asked.

"Yes, sir, every word of it. You know how bad it was."

"And you followed our boat?"

"Followed the way we last saw your sail, sir, for long before it was
dark the boat went out of sight. But just as I'd give up all hope of
seeing it again, we saw your fire like a spark on shore, and we come
after that."

"Rowed?" I said.

"No, sir; sailed. There's a little lug-sail to the boat. We didn't
lose sight of the fire again, and at last we ran our boat ashore."

"And you've come to offer your services?" said my uncle.

"Yes, sir," said the man gruffly.

"But even if I could take you under the circumstances, I don't want the
services of any man."

"Your's is a big boat, sir, and hard to manage, particular at sea," said
the carpenter.

"I know the boat's capabilities better than you can tell me," said my
uncle shortly, "and I do not require help."

"Then we've made a bad job of it, boy," said the carpenter.

"The gentleman don't know what we can do, Bill, and how useful we should
be."

"I daresay," said my uncle, frowning, "but I do not want a man, nor
another lad."

"If you'll only let me stop, sir," said the boy piteously. "I don't
want no wages, and I won't eat much, only what you've done with, and
there arn't nothing I won't do. I'll carry anything, and work--oh, how
I will work! I'll be like your dog, I will, and you can both knock me
about and kick