



Produced by David Widger




SHIP'S COMPANY

By W.W. Jacobs



DUAL CONTROL


"Never say 'die,' Bert," said Mr. Culpepper, kindly; "I like you, and so
do most other people who know what's good for 'em; and if Florrie don't
like you she can keep single till she does."

Mr. Albert Sharp thanked him.

"Come in more oftener," said Mr. Culpepper.  "If she don't know a steady
young man when she sees him, it's her mistake."

"Nobody could be steadier than what I am," sighed Mr. Sharp.

Mr. Culpepper nodded.  "The worst of it is, girls don't like steady young
men," he said, rumpling his thin grey hair; "that's the silly part of
it."

"But you was always steady, and Mrs. Culpepper married you," said the
young man.

Mr. Culpepper nodded again.  "She thought I was, and that came to the
same thing," he said, composedly.  "And it ain't for me to say, but she
had an idea that I was very good-looking in them days.  I had chestnutty
hair.  She burnt a piece of it only the other day she'd kept for thirty
years."

[Illustration: A very faint squeeze in return decided him]

"Burnt it?  What for?"  inquired Mr. Sharp.

"Words," said the other, lowering his voice.  "When I want one thing
nowadays she generally wants another; and the things she wants ain't the
things I want."

Mr. Sharp shook his head and sighed again.

"You ain't talkative enough for Florrie, you know," said Mr. Culpepper,
regarding him.

"I can talk all right as a rule," retorted Mr. Sharp.  "You ought to hear
me at the debating society; but you can't talk to a girl who doesn't talk
back."

"You're far too humble," continued the other.  "You should cheek her a
bit now and then.  Let 'er see you've got some spirit.  Chaff 'er."

"That's no good," said the young man, restlessly.  "I've tried it.  Only
the other day I called her 'a saucy little kipper,' and the way she went
on, anybody would have thought I'd insulted her.  Can't see a joke, I
s'pose.  Where is she now?"

"Upstairs," was the reply.

"That's because I'm here," said Mr. Sharp.  "If it had been Jack Butler
she'd have been down fast enough."

"It couldn't be him," said Mr. Culpepper, "because I won't have 'im in
the house.  I've told him so; I've told her so, and I've told 'er aunt
so.  And if she marries without my leave afore she's thirty she loses the
seven hundred pounds 'er father left her.  You've got plenty of time--ten
years."

Mr. Sharp, sitting with his hands between his knees, gazed despondently
at the floor.  "There's a lot o' girls would jump at me," he remarked.
"I've only got to hold up my little finger and they'd jump."

"That's because they've got sense," said Mr. Culpepper.  "They've got the
sense to prefer steadiness and humdrumness to good looks and dash.  A
young fellow like you earning thirty-two-and-six a week can do without
good looks, and if I've told Florrie so once I have told her fifty
times."

"Looks are a matter of taste," said Mr. Sharp, morosely.  "Some of them
girls I was speaking about just now--"

"Yes, yes," said Mr. Culpepper, hastily.  "Now, look here; you go on a
different tack.  Take a glass of ale like a man or a couple o' glasses;
smoke a cigarette or a pipe.  Be like other young men.  Cut a dash, and
don't be a namby-pamby.  After you're married you can be as miserable as
you like."

Mr. Sharp, after a somewhat lengthy interval, thanked him.

"It's my birthday next Wednesday," continued Mr. Culpepper, regarding him
benevolently; "come round about seven, and I'll ask you to stay to
supper.  That'll give you a chance.  Anybody's allowed to step a bit over
the mark on birthdays, and you might take a glass or two and make a
speech, and be so happy and bright that they'd 'ardly know you.  If you
want an excuse for calling, you could bring me a box of cigars for my
birthday."

"Or come in to wish you 'Many Happy Returns of the Day,'" said the
thrifty Mr. Sharp.

"And don't forget to get above yourself," said Mr. Culpepper, regarding
him sternly; "in a gentlemanly way, of course.  Have as many glasses as
you like--there's no stint about me."

"If it ever comes off," said Mr. Sharp, rising--"if I get her through
you, you shan't have reason to repent it.  I'll look after that."

Mr. Culpepper, whose feelings were a trifle ruffled, said that he would
"look after it too."  He had a faint idea that, even from his own point
of view, he might have made a better selection for his niece's hand.

Mr. Sharp smoked his first cigarette the following morning, and,
encouraged by the entire absence of any after-effects, purchased a pipe,
which was taken up by a policeman the same evening for obstructing the
public footpath in company with a metal tobacco-box three parts full.

In the matter of ale he found less difficulty.  Certainly the taste was
unpleasant, but, treated as medicine and gulped down quickly, it was
endurable.  After a day or two he even began to be critical, and on
Monday evening went so far as to complain of its flatness to the wide-
eyed landlord of the "Royal George."

"Too much cellar-work," he said, as he finished his glass and made for
the door.

"Too much!  'Ere, come 'ere," said the landlord, thickly.  "I want to
speak to you."

The expert shook his head, and, passing out into, the street, changed
colour as he saw Miss Garland approaching.  In a blundering fashion he
clutched at his hat and stammered out a "Good evening."

Miss Garland returned the greeting and, instead of passing on, stopped
and, with a friendly smile, held out her hand.  Mr. Sharp shook it
convulsively.

"You are just the man I want to see," she exclaimed.  "Aunt and I have
been talking about you all the afternoon."

Mr. Sharp said "Really!"

"But I don't want uncle to see us," pursued Miss Garland, in the low
tones of confidence.  "Which way shall we go?"

Mr. Sharp's brain reeled.  All ways were alike to him in such company.
He walked beside her like a man in a dream.

"We want to give him a lesson," said the girl, presently.  "A lesson that
he will remember."

"Him?"  said the young man.

"Uncle," explained the girl.  "It's a shocking thing, a wicked thing, to
try and upset a steady young man like you.  Aunt is quite put out about
it, and I feel the same as she does."

"But," gasped the astonished Mr. Sharp, "how did you?"

"Aunt heard him," said Miss Garland.  "She was just going into the room
when she caught a word or two, and she stayed outside and listened.  You
don't know what a lot she thinks of you."

Mr. Sharp's eyes opened wider than ever.  "I thought she didn't like me,"
he said, slowly.

"Good gracious!"  said Miss Garland.  "Whatever could have put such an
idea as that into your head?  Of course, aunt isn't always going to let
uncle see that she agrees with him.  Still, as if anybody could help--"
she murmured to herself.

"Eh?"  said the young man, in a trembling voice.

"Nothing."

Miss Garland walked along with averted face; Mr. Sharp, his pulses
bounding, trod on air beside her.

"I thought," he said, at last "I thought that Jack Butler was a favourite
of hers?"

"Jack Butler!"  said the girl, in tones of scornful surprise.  "The idea!
How blind men are; you're all alike, I think.  You can't see two inches
in front of you.  She's as pleased as possible that you are coming on
Wednesday; and so am--"

Mr. Sharp caught his breath.  "Yes?"  he murmured.

"Let's go down here," said Miss Garland quickly; "down by the river.  And
I'll tell you what we want you to do."

She placed her hand lightly on his arm, and Mr. Sharp, with a tremulous
smile, obeyed.  The smile faded gradually as he listened, and an
expression of anxious astonishment took its place.  He shook his head as
she proceeded, and twice ventured a faint suggestion that she was only
speaking in jest.  Convinced at last, against his will, he walked on in
silent consternation.

"But," he said at last, as Miss Garland paused for breath, "your uncle
would never forgive me.  He'd never let me come near the house again."

"Aunt will see to that," said the girl, confidently.  "But, of course, if
you don't wish to please me--"

She turned away, and Mr. Sharp, plucking up spirit, ventured to take her
hand and squeeze it.  A faint, a very faint, squeeze in return decided
him.

"It will come all right afterwards," said Miss Garland, "especially with
the hold it will give aunt over him."

"I hope so," said the young man.  "If not, I shall be far--farther off
than ever."

Miss Garland blushed and, turning her head, gazed steadily at the river.

"Trust me," she said at last.  "Me and auntie."

Mr. Sharp said that so long as he pleased her nothing else mattered, and,
in the seventh heaven of delight, paced slowly along the towpath by her
side.

"And you mustn't mind what auntie and I say to you," said the girl,
continuing her instructions.  "We must keep up appearances, you know; and
if we seem to be angry, you must remember we are only pretending."

Mr. Sharp, with a tender smile, said that he understood perfectly.

"And now I had better go," said Flor