...
"Here! I've had about enough of this!" cried the captain, furious, "tie
him to the rail again!..."
"Now, we'll leave you there, on bread and water, till you say you'll
work."
"What does it matter what you do," sauced Franz; "we'll be in port in
four days ... and then you'll see what I'll do!"
* * * * *
"What's that?" cried the captain. Then catching an inkling of Franz's
scheme, he hit the man a quick, hard blow in the mouth with his clenched
fist.
"Give him another!" urged the mate.
But the captain's rage was over, though Franz sent him a bold, mocking
laugh, even as the blood trickled down in a tiny red stream from where
his mouth had, been struck.
I never saw such courage of its kind.
They left him there for ten hours. But he stood without a sign of
exhaustion or giving in. And they untied him. And let him loose.
And, till we hove to at Dalghety's Wharf, in Sydney Harbour, unnoticed,
Franz, the Alsace-Lorrainer, roamed the boat at will, like a passenger.
"Wait till I get on shore ... this little shanghaiing party of the
captain's will cost him a lot of hard money," he said, in a low voice,
to me,--standing idly by, his hands in his pockets, while I was bending
over the brass on the bridge railing, polishing away.
"But they've nearly killed you, Franz ... will it be worth it?"
"All I can say is I wish they'd use me rougher.
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