There was no the fact that the Sarah Jane was a very fine . Old Cheesy Morgan, whose Prairie Flower she had outreached in the annual barge regatta by half a mile, owned up that the Sarah Jane, if she had been built out of the of a sunken steamboat looted by the miserly old mudlark who owned her, could lay over any of his fleet, and when he gave in as far as that you might look upon the discussion as closed. Her skipper and mate, Trabby Goodjer and Skee Goss, were always ready (when in company) to punch any single man’s head who said a word against her, and many sore bones had been carried away from the “Long Reach House” in consequence. Not that these two were ever sparing of their extensive vocabulary of abuse of their command when working up or down the Thames, especially when she missed stays and hooked herself up on a mudbank about the first of the , making them lose a whole day.  
Ever since her launching she had been regularly employed in the Margate trade from London with general merchandise and returning empty. Even this double expense for single freight paid the Margate shopkeepers better than to the[243] extortionate railway charges, while their enterprise was a golden of luck for the owner of the Sarah Jane, and her . When she commenced the voyage of which this is the log, she had for crew, besides the two already named, a youngster of some fifteen years of age as near as he could guess, but so in growth from early hardships that he did not look more than twelve. He answered to any name generally that sounded abusive or threatening, from long habit, but his usual title was the one for boys in north-country ships—Peedee. He had already seen a couple of years’ service in deep-water , getting far more than his rightful share of , besides having done a fairly comprehensive amount of vagabondage in the streets of London and Liverpool. But being so for his years he found it difficult to get a in a decent-sized ship, and in consequence it was often no easy matter for him to fill even his small , for all his wits. Fate, supplemented by his own fears, had hitherto been kind enough to keep him out of a Geordie collier or a North Sea trawler, but on the day he met Trabby Goodjer outside the “King’s Arms” in Thames Street, and asked him if he wanted a boy, his evil genius must have been in the ascendant. He hadn’t tasted food for two days with the exception of a fistful of gritty currants he had raked out of a corner on Fresh , and as the keen spring wind round the bacon-reeking searched his small body to the he[244] grew desperate. Thus it was that he became the crew of the Sarah Jane. Properly, she should have carried another man, but following the example of their betters in the Mercantile the skipper and mate trusted to luck, and found under-manning pay. The owner lived at Rochester, and rarely saw his except through a pair of glasses at long as she passed the entrance to the Medway. So the payment of the crew was in the skipper’s hands , left to him by the London agent who “managed” her. By sailing her a man short, and giving a boy 10s. a month instead of a pound, Captain Goodjer and chief officer Goss were able to enjoy many cheap drunks, and have thrown in, as it were, the additional of ill-using something that was quite unable to turn the tables unpleasantly.
 
Between this pair therefore, whose luck in getting and forwards to Margate and London was phenomenal, Peedee had a lively time. Especially so when, from some unforeseen delay or extra thirst, the supply of liquor in the big stone jar kept at the head of the skipper’s ran short and they were perforce compelled to exchange their usual swinish condition of uncertain good-humour for an restlessness that sought relief by exercising ingenious forms of cruelty upon their hapless crew. Occasionally they had a rough-and-tumble between themselves, once indeed they both rolled over the side in a cat-like scrimmage, but there was nothing like the to be got out of that amusement that there was in beating[245] Peedee. But he, preternaturally wise, was only his time. The score against his persecutors was growing very long, but a revenge that should be at once pleasant, enduring, and final, slowly shaped itself in his mind. Accident rather than design matured his plans , but still he showed real genius by rising to the occasion that thus presented itself and utilising it in a truly manner.
 
One Friday evening in the middle of October the Sarah Jane was loosed from the wharf where she had received her miscellaneous freight, and with the usual amount of river compliments and collisions with the motley crowd of craft all in an hopeless in the crowded Pool, began her voyage on the first of the ebb. The skipper and the mate were both more than ordinarily muzzy, but intuitively they succeeded in getting her away from the ruck without receiving more than her fair share of hard knocks. Once in the fairway the big sprit-sail and jib were hove up to what little wind there was, and away she went at a fairly good pace. Peedee did most of the as he did of everything else that was possible to him, receiving as his due many pretty bargee-compliments from his superiors as they at their ease by the bogie . They reached Greenhithe at slack water, where, the wind ahead, they anchored for the night at no great distance from the reformatory ship Cornwall. The sails were furled after a fashion, and with many a blood-curdling threat to Peedee should he fail to keep a[246] good look-out, Trabby and his mate went below into their to sleep. Somewhere about midnight the shivering boy awoke with a start, that nearly tumbled him off his on the windlass, to see two white figures clambering on board out of the river. Wide awake on the instant he saw they were boys like himself, and whispered, “All right, mates, here y’are.” Noiselessly he showed them the fo’c’s’le , where they might get below and hide. When they had disappeared he crept to the side of the darksome hole and held a whispered conversation with the visitors, finding that they were from the Cornwall, and immediately his active brain saw splendid possibilities in this accession of strength if only he could their presence from his enemies aft. For the present, however, there was nothing to be done but lie quietly and wait events. Daring the risk of the “officers” he made a raid upon the grub-locker aft, securing half a loaf and a lump of Dutch cheese, which he carried forward to the shivering . His own wardrobe being on his back he could not lend them any clothes, but they comforted themselves with the thought that they would soon be dry. And assisted by Peedee they made a in the gritty convolutions of a worn-out mainsail that was stowed in their hiding-place, finding warmth and speedy oblivion in spite of their terrors.
 
The slack arrived some little time before the pale, cheerless dawn, and with it a small breeze fair for their passage down. enough Peedee[247] aroused his masters from their fetid hole, getting by way of reward for his of orders a tropical squall of curses. Nevertheless they were soon on deck, having turned in like horses, “all .” Without speaking a word to each other, they proceeded to get the anchor, but so out of humour were they that Peedee had much more than his usual allowance of fresh cuts and before the barge was fairly aweigh. Gradually the wind freshened as if assisted by the oncoming light, so that before the red disc of the sun peeped over the edge of London’s great gloom behind them, the Sarah Jane was making grand progress. Again Peedee took the wheel, while the skipper and mate to the cabin for a drink. Suddenly sounds of arose therefrom. The agonising discovery had been made that the precious jar was empty. It had been capsized during the night, and the bung, being but loosely inserted, had fallen out. Its contents now lay in a sticky pool behind the stove, mixed with the accumulated of two or three days. It was a sight too harrowing for ordinary speech. They glared at one another for a few seconds in silence, until Trabb............