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crew, but you’re the one Ferdie has brought us. No matter how you got here, you’ll do a man’s work, or pay the price.” He rubs his chin and studies me carefully. “A printer’s son, eh? Can you read and scribe?
    â€œSince I was a babe.”
    â€œSketch straight lines and copy markings exactly as you see them?”
    I nod, a burst of pride pushing my head up a little higher. Hadn’t my father often boasted that I would make a better recorder than he, that I had the gift of an artist’s hand and an eagle’s eye for detail? “No doubt I could, sir, for my hand is steady and true to what I see.”
    â€œGood,” the Captain says, standing up. “If you prove trustworthy, you can be useful to me.”
    â€œBegging your pardon?” I ask. “What is it you’ll be wanting?”
    A guarded look passes between the Captain and Solitaire Peep. The Captain steps from behind his desk. “I’ll let you know what I want in good time.” He lifts my chin and tilts my head until he can see the gash. “Ferdie almost took your head off,” he says. Turning to Solitaire Peep, he says, “Tend his wound before it festers. Then get him cleaned up. He looks like he’s already been in battle.” With that, he opens the door.
    I follow Solitaire Peep into the dark passageway. As wemake our way to the steps, his jeweled eye patch flickers in the light coming from the hatch. “You’re a lucky lad,” he says. “The last man we took didn’t last a day. Tossed overboard, he was.”
    â€œFor what reason?” I ask, wondering what horrible deed the man had committed.
    â€œFalsehoods,” Solitaire Peep replies. “He looked the Captain right in the face and told him a bold-faced lie.”
    I take a step backward. “What lie is so bad to deserve death?”
    â€œAny lie. ’Tis not its size that matters,” Solitaire Peep adds. “A man who cain’t be trusted is a danger to us all.”
    â€œBut what did he lie about?” I press, anxious to measure that Frenchman’s deceitfulness against mine.
    â€œThe lazy no-good slept through his night shift, and then told the Captain he had been up on deck the whole while. Lucky for us, Gunther saw him sleeping or the Captain would have believed the man’s tale. We could have been speared in our sleep by a French or Spanish bayonet. No matter what happens, boy, remember this. Never lie to the Captain.”
    â€œNever lie to the Captain,” I repeat slowly, as if speaking the words might erase the one I have already told about my age.
    â€œYou’ve been truthful, haven’t you?” Solitaire Peep demands.
    â€œYes sir,” I answer quickly, looking away so that he can’t see my face. Sixteen I’d said I was, and sixteen I must be. My life depends upon it.

CHAPTER FIVE
    A s I climb the steps to the deck, the throbbing in my head returns. I pause and lean against the wall. “What’s stopping you?” Solitaire Peep snaps. “Get going!”
    â€œMy head,” I murmur, pushing off from the wall. “It is starting to hurt again.” I stumble slowly up the narrow flight. Two steps from the top, my legs fold and I pitch forward. Everything goes black.
    When I awake, I am stretched out on the deck. Solitaire Peep is crouched over me. “Stay awake, boy,” he commands, poking my cheek with a bony finger. I will my eyes to remain open, but they refuse to obey. From far away, I hear the bleating of a goat and think I am dreaming again.
    â€œOpen your lookers,” Solitaire Peep says loudly. He pinches my chin hard and slaps at my cheeks until my eyes flutter and the ship’s deck slowly comes into focus.
    The humped-back cook climbs through the hatch carrying a rag and a small bucket. Kneeling beside my head, he examines the deep gash that runs behind my ear to the base of my neck. “Leave him