Boon Island - Kenneth Roberts [56]
"Why, that's my mate," Captain Dean said. "That's Christopher Langman!" To my father he explained, "He beats anything I ever saw! Every minute of the day he's figuring how to make money, and he doesn't care how he does it."
"Sounds caddish to me," my father said carelessly. "Why don't you get rid of him?"
"The truth is," Captain Dean said hesitantly, "I can't."
"Since when," my father asked, "has a captain been unable to get rid of a mate when his vessel's in port? I can see how it might be a little difficult if you're halfway across the Atlantic, but you aren't. You're seizing spars, or fishing ropes or sheetswhatever it is you nautical people fish and seizeand you'll be lucky to get to sea inside of another two months."
"I know," Captain Dean said, "but it's a long story."
"Well, give me a hint," my father said. "I'm interested in this Langman and his whitebait ventures. First thing we know, he'll be making it into one of these stock companiesselling shares on 'Change Alley and ruining thousands just like the stock jobbers. How does it happen you can't get rid of Langman, John?"
"Well," Dean said, "he sailed on one of Woodes Rogers' ships two years ago."
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"Woodes Rogers! Why, he's a buccaneer," my father said quickly.
"No, no," Dean said. "Not a buccaneer, Charles! He's a privateer. Privateers carry government commissions, and a tenth of their takings go to the state."
"Oh, don't try to tell me the law," my father said. "I know what the law is, and most of these privateers are nothing but buccaneers, no matter what the law says."
"Well, I don't know about that," Captain Dean said, "but I do know that Langman says he sailed with Woodes Rogers; and around the Gulf of Guayaquil, when Rogers was busy capturing some footling town or other, Langman went off in a small boat with a few of his seamen, came across a smart-looking galley and captured her. Then somehow he was separated from Rogers, couldn't find him again, and decided the safest thing he could do was sail home. He had no money, and his men hadn't been paid, so he hunted up my brother Jasper and offered to sell him the galley at a bargain, provided he was retained as first mate."
He stirred uneasily beneath my father's scrutiny.
"Sounds fishy to me," my father said. "What happened to the crew that was in the galley when she was taken?"
Captain Dean looked more uncomfortable. "I asked him that, and he said they just went ashore, all but two men that he persuaded Jasper to hire."
Neal Butler came back from the kitchen to stand beside his father.
My father snorted, raised incredulous eyes to the sky; then spoke to Neal. "What did Mrs. Buddage say, young man?"
"She said Captain Dean came here just in the nick of time," Neal said. "She said she'd just been thinking of
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making some cheese out of her sour cream." He sounded exactly like Mrs. Buddage.
"Good," my father said, "good. Now, Neal, this Langman you're working for: did you undertake to work for him for a certain length of time?"
"Yes, sir," Neal said, "I promised, when he gave me the trap, to fish for him every day when I had nothing else to do. He pays me threepence a quart."
"You know that's not a fair price?" my father asked.
"Yes, sir," Neal said. "If I had time to peddle 'em around, I could get more; but if I took out time to peddle them, I wouldn't be able to catch enough."
"Yes," my father said, "there's something in what you say, but I'm a magistrate and I herewith declare your contract with Mr. Langman to be null and void. I have friends who'll be glad to pay a shilling a quart for them, and that's what I'll pay youa shilling a quart and guarantee to dispose of all you catch. Understand? As for Langman, I'll give him a talking-to. He sounds to me like a slippery customer."
My father turned to Swede. "Now, Swede," he said, "does it make you easier in your mind to know your boy's having no further dealings with