"Yes, my arms are good for something, and I'll use them for something,"said Jim.

There was raging a tempest inside his soul. For a youthful fellow of a Puritaneducation in those days to be mad with his father was somewhat thatseemed to him as awful a sacrilege as to be mad with his God, and yethe felt that his father had been bitterly, cruelly unjust towards him. Hehad driven economy to the most stringent extremes; he had avoided theintimacy of his class fellows, lest he should be drawn into needlessexpenses; he had borne with shabby clothing and mean fare among betterdressed and richer associates, and been willing to bear it. He hadstudied faithfully, unremittingly, for two decades, but at the moment heturned from his father the throb that wrung his heart was the giving upof all. He had inside his pocket a letter from his citysman and schoolmate,Sam Allen, mate of an East Indiaman just fitting out at Salem, and itsaid:

"We are going to sail with a picked crew, and we want one just such afellow as you for third mate. Come along, and you can go right up, andyour college mathematics will be all the much better for us. Come right off,and your berth will be ready, and away for round the world!"