Chapter One

Biddy and Con get into a bit of trouble...

At a street corner near the docks in Southampton, England, a small crowd of people had gathered around two boys and a medium-sized bag.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” one of them said, “Our new medicine will prevent over-excitement and nervousness. Observe my friend here�"he is a most excitable fellow, do you agree?”

His friend looked nervously through the small crowd, wringing his hands, bouncing slightly.

“He is in great danger of contracting some sort of disease, for his humors are all out of balance. I shall put him out of his discomfort and risk by giving him some of this medicine. In only a few minutes, you will observe that his behavior changes dramatically.” The boy took a small bottle of yellow liquid from the bag and gave it to his friend, who opened it and took a swallow.

“Ladies and gentlemen, as the medicine does its work, I would like to tell you that you can buy this medicine for yourselves for only five pounds a bottle. For this cure of nervousness, reducing your risk for contracting some diseases, only five pounds. That's a low price for the safety it brings you, wouldn’t you agree?”

The boy who had been so nervous before was beginning to calm down. He had held onto the bottle tightly after swallowing his medicine, but now he loosened his hold. He watched his friend with a steady but relaxed gaze.

“Yes, only five pounds a bottle. And look at my friend now! His behavior has altered most profoundly. What do you think?”

The small crowd of people murmured among themselves, their tones impressed.

“I'll have some,” one man said, stepping forward.

“Thank you, good sir!” the boy said. He pulled another bottle of yellow liquid from his bag and traded it for five pounds from the man.

“I will, too,” said a woman from the crowd.

“Oh, thank you!” The boy traded her a bottle of medicine for five pounds, too.

Almost everyone in the small crowd started talking at once, all of them waving their money at the boys and asking for the medicine. The boy doing the sales happily took their money and put it in the bag, giving the people medicine in exchange.

“Oy,” said a man's voice near the back of the crowd. “Who made this stuff? Did you?”

“No, no,” said the boy, “we are but humble salesmen. This was made by the doctor Oliver Button.” He took more people’s money and handed it to his friend, who put it into the bag.

“Oliver Button, eh?” The man stepped to the front of the crowd. “I heard he was a violinist.”

The two boys looked at each other. The one who had been nervous closed the bag of medicine and money.

“No, I am pretty sure he's a doctor,” said the other boy.

“Good people, you have been conned,” said the man.

The nervous boy picked up the bag as the people gasped.

“People, people, we are not conning you,” said the salesman. “You saw the effects of this medicine on my friend. It works!”

“Get them!” said the man.

The two boys darted out of the crowd just as the astonished people processed what the man had said. They ran through the docks as some of the men from the group chased them.

“Oliver Button!” said Obedience, the nervous boy, as they ran. “I like that name, but I guess it's time for a new one.” A rock whizzed between her head and her friend's.

“I agree,” said her friend Constance, the salesman. “It seems about time.” Another rock flew past her, inches from her ear. “We should probably hide.”

“Won't they see us hiding?” asked Obedience.

“Biddy!” said Constance, or Con.

“What?”

Con turned onto one of the docks, and Obedience, called Biddy, followed.

“All right, then,” said Biddy. Con didn't answer. She ran down the dock as another rock flew past Biddy. She turned and ran up a gangway, onto a ship, and Biddy followed. Sailors yelled lazily as the two “boys” ran across the deck and down the ladder into the hold. Biddy and Con stumbled through the boxes and barrels stored in the hold and hid just as they heard more footsteps running across the deck.

“Just where do you think you’re going?” a loud, authoritative voice shouted above deck. The captain, Biddy and Con knew. Someone must have stopped the men, too, because the running footsteps had stopped.

“Two boys just ran into your ship!” one of the men said.

“And now four men,” said the captain.

“Sir, we’ll get them off your ship for you,” said one of the men.

“They conned us!” said another.

“I prefer having as few intruders aboard my ship as possible,” said the captain.

“You’re going to leave the boys on your ship?” said one of the men.

“They’re criminals!” another added.

“I can get them off my ship myself,” said the captain. “And now, gentlemen, I ask you to leave, else I’ll have these fellows escort you, if you can’t remember your way off the ship yourself.”

The men protested, but their footsteps shuffled across the deck again, off the ship.

“You two!” the captain shouted above. “Find those boys.”

Panic welled up in Biddy. “We would have had a chance if we had run!” she whispered loudly enough for Con to hear. Now they would definitely be caught, handed over to the law, and hung as criminals.

Two pairs of footsteps pounded down the ladder. Biddy squeezed her eyes shut tight and hoped that, somehow, the sailors wouldn’t find her and Con.

Just then, she heard a box lid being thrown to the ground, and Constance�"it had to be Con�"running across the hold’s deck. One of the sailors shouted.

She’s crazy, Biddy thought. They’re going to grab her and she’ll be dead anyway. She heard what sounded like a few blows, and someone climbing up the ladder quickly. Someone else followed right after. So Con had fought her way up to the deck, but she probably wouldn’t make it off the ship, Biddy thought. But to her surprise, she heard both sets of footsteps running across the deck and off the ship.

Well, if it had worked for her…

Biddy tried to pop out of her box like Con had come out of hers, but the lid stuck. She thumped on it a few times before the lid came off. She popped up and stumbled out of the box. A boy about her age, 18, laughed at her.

Hmmph, she thought. He won’t be laughing when I get out of here. She tried to run past the dark-haired boy, but, of course, he stepped in her way before she reached the ladder. She tried to dart around him to the right, but he moved in front of her. She tried going to the left, but he blocked her way again. She kicked him in the stomach and tried to move around him, but he grabbed her arm just before she reached the ladder. Biddy turned around and slapped the dark-haired boy across the face as hard as she could. He loosened his hold for a second, and Biddy tried to free her arm from his grip, but he caught onto her wrist before she could run away.

Biddy tried to punch the boy in the face, but he blocked her punch. He pulled her away from the ladder by her wrist. She tried to punch him again, and again he blocked her. He tried to punch her, too, but she dodged his blow. She kicked him between the legs and as he doubled over, she looked wildly around her for something to use as a weapon. She found a bottle in the cargo next to her, grabbed it and brought it down to his head. He stopped her arm with his, but she moved his arm out of the way with her other arm, sent her knee into his side, and broke the glass bottle on the back of his head, sending him to the deck with shards of glass. Biddy ran to the ladder, but just as she reached it, someone started to come down.

“Bloody hell…” She couldn’t believe her bad luck. She ran back to the cargo and hid between boxes and barrels as another boy about her age, this one taller and with red hair, came down the ladder and saw the first boy unconscious on the deck.

“Wesley!” he said, running to him. He checked his friend’s breathing for half a minute and then stood up. “You won’t make it off the ship and keep your life,” he called matter-of-factly into the cargo. “Your friend escaped, but he had two men running after him even after I turned back. Two of the men stay just off the end of the gangway. They’re waiting for you, and at least one of them has a gun.”

Biddy sat quietly in the cargo and listened, trying to keep her breathing steady and silent.

“We could find a way to keep you on the ship,” said the red-haired boy. Now Biddy knew he was lying. “You could be a ship’s boy. How old are you? Twelve?”

Their captain would never sail with Biddy in his crew. The people she had just conned would be outraged. The government…would the government do anything? She was, after all, an insignificant 12-year-old boy… But the captain wouldn’t want her aboard.

“We could trick the captain,” said the boy.

As if the captain wouldn’t suspect that the new boy who suddenly showed up was the boy who hid on their ship. As if he wouldn’t recognize him.

“He didn’t see you,” said the red-haired boy, “And most of the other sailors probably didn’t catch your face. I know I don’t remember it. One of the ship’s boys who was supposed to show up didn’t come. We could say you’re him.”

Was this true? Biddy couldn’t be sure. And if she left with this ship, she would leave Con behind…but that was still better than being dead. At least she would have a chance to see her again. But did this boy speak the truth?

“Hurry, though, we’re going to leave soon,” said the boy.

Biddy ran through the options in her head. Try to escape, get killed. Stay hidden…did captains kill stowaways when they found them? She wasn’t sure. And what the boy was saying sounded made up, but…she stood hesitantly in the cargo and faced the red-haired boy.

The boy smiled. “There we go.”

“Did you make that up?” Biddy asked him.

“No,” said the boy. “We really are missing one.”

Biddy stepped slowly from the cargo. “Will it actually work?”

“I hope so,” he said.

“Why do you want to help me?” Biddy asked.

The boy shrugged. “Why not?”

“I knocked your friend unconscious,” Biddy said, motioning to the boy on the floor as she walked closer to the red-haired boy.

“That was rude,” the red-haired boy admitted. “It would have been different if you’d killed him.”

Biddy looked at the boy on the floor.

“We should carry him to a hammock, though, and then clean up the glass,” said the red-haired boy. “What’s your name?”

A boy’s name�" “Oliver Button,” she said, somewhat too hastily.

The red-haired boy didn’t seem to notice Biddy’s haste. “I’m Macajah, but everyone calls me Cager. Now, you can take Wesley’s feet�"” He turned the unconscious boy over so he lay on his back, then took him under his arms. Biddy lifted him by his ankles, and together they carried him into another part of the hold with hammocks. They placed him into a hammock and then went back to the cargo hold and cleaned up the glass on the floor.

“We’d better get on deck,” Cager said when they had finished. He looked at Biddy. “Follow my lead.” He climbed up the ladder to the deck, and Biddy followed.

“We couldn’t find him,” said Cager. “We found Wesley unconscious, but much as me and Ollie looked, we couldn’t find the boy who did it.”

“You and Ollie?” one of the sailors asked.

“Aye, I yelled when I saw Wesley lying with the glass on the deck, and Oliver here heard me.”

“You looked everywhere?” the captain said, approaching. He was a short man with blonde hair and a generally weathered look about him. His green eyes looked hard and had wrinkles all around them. Biddy fought the urge to look away or step back when he scrutinized her, even though he only did so for one second before looking back at Cager.

“Aye, sir, I did,” said Cager. “I think he might have escaped.”

“Those blokes would ha’ shot him dead,” one of the sailors said.

“You can check for yourself in case I missed him, but I looked everywhere…”

“You two,” the captain yelled, pointing to two other sailors, “Check again for the boy. The rest of you, weigh anchor and make sail!”

“We’re leaving,” Cager said to Biddy as the captain walked away. “Follow me.” He climbed up a mast and onto a yardarm, where he worked on undoing a knot that held one side of a sail.

Biddy followed, much more slowly, trying not to think about the distance between her and the deck as she climbed up the mast. She moved herself from the mast to the yardarm slowly and carefully, trying not to fall. Cager laughed at her when she reached him.

“I’m done now,” he said. “You’ll get used to being up here after a while. Try not to show your fear too much if you can help it. All right, time to go down.”

Biddy tried to climb down the mast faster than she had climbed up, but Cager and another sailor still waited above her by the time she reached the deck. The ship was starting to leave the docks. The captain and first mate still shouted orders as sailors busied themselves following them.

“It’s all right,” Cager said as the sailor who had waited with him for Biddy thumped to the deck. “Why don’t you check on Wesley?” Biddy nodded and Cager went off to join the other sailors.

Before she went below decks, Biddy peeked over the docks she was about to leave behind. Two angry men waited for her still. Biddy tried to look for Constance, but, of course, she was nowhere in sight. She stepped away from the side of the ship, walked quickly across the deck, and climbed down the ladder into the hold. She found Wesley, the boy she had knocked out, in the hammock where she and Cager had left him. He was still unconscious.

Biddy wasn’t sure what she should do, but she know she was only a burden to Cager on the deck. She looked at Wesley and wondered what he would do when he woke up and saw her still on the ship. She hoped he wouldn’t give her away as the criminal she was. She studied his face, so peaceful in the sleep she had forced upon him. Biddy laughed a little inside at the thought. But he did look peaceful, his expression untroubled, his black hair falling messily on his face and the hammock. He wore typical sailor’s clothes: a dirty white shirt of the same loose, white fabric as Biddy’s own; loose black pants; no shoes or socks. He had tied a dark blue piece of cloth around his head.

The color of his skin suggested he had been sailing before, or at least he had worked out in the sun, although his skin wasn’t leathery or as dark as the older sailors’ on the ship. Biddy rolled up one of Wesley’s sleeves and compared her arm to his. Her skin was considerably paler and she had no visible muscle. No one would mistake her for a sailor. But, she thought, they didn’t need to think she was a sailor yet�"she was a ship’s boy of only 12 years, and just starting. She pulled Wesley’s sleeve back down to his wrist and put his arm back into the hammock, then stood over him a moment longer, wondering if she should go back up on deck. She didn’t want to. She wondered what color Wesley’s eyes were. She bent over his face, about to open one of his eyes, when his face contorted into a grimace and he moved in his hammock. Biddy fell backward in surprise. She tried to crawl back away as Wesley stirred in his hammock, but she hit the post for another hammock.

At the sound, Wesley sat up and opened his eyes. Biddy stood hastily and tried to hide herself behind the pole. Wesley stood up and put his hand to his head. “You!” He drew a knife.

“Hold on,” Biddy said, stepping backward as Wesley came closer. She ran to another pole as Wesley reached hers.

“I can’t even believe you’re still down here,” Wesley said, walking toward Biddy.

“I-I’m part of the crew,” Biddy said frantically, running backward to another pole.

“Ha! I’m not stupid,” Wesley said. “I wonder why Cager didn’t come back and take care of you. Did you fight him, too?” Wesley swung around a pole, bringing his knife very close to Biddy as Biddy moved away and ran backward some more.

“He came,” said Biddy. “He tricked the captain to help me stay on the ship as part of the crew.”

Wesley paused and looked thoughtful. “Ship’s moving. All I have to do to get you caught now is yell. You’ve no place to go.”

“I’m telling the truth!” said Biddy.

Wesley put his knife away. “At least I don’t have to use this.” He looked about ready to yell when Biddy took out her knife. Wesley quickly drew his knife again.

“Don’t yell,” Biddy said. “Upon my word, I�"”

“Children, children,” Cager said, shaking his head scornfully as he walked into the room. “I can never happen upon you two not fighting.”

“Was I conscious last time you happened upon us?” Wesley asked, not putting away his knife.

“Oh, that’s right, you weren’t, but I assumed you two were fighting before that. Then me and Oliver moved you over here.”

Wesley looked back at Biddy. “This is Oliver?”

“Aye,” said Cager.

Wesley dropped his arm with the knife. “You mean to tell me you actually did let this kid stay on the ship?”

“The opportunity presented itself,” said Cager. “We were missing a ship’s boy.”

Wesley put away his knife. “What’s in your head?”

“Why does it bother you? All you have against him is that he knocked you out, and that was nothing personal. We won’t get caught.”

Wesley looked at Biddy and back at Cager. “Are you sure? Because I would like to live, if possible.”

“Absolutely,” said Cager. “Ollie’s already been on deck and presented to everyone. He’s one of the crew now, and everyone assumes the thief who came aboard somehow escaped.”

“I can’t believe that worked,” Wesley said.

“Never doubt, my friend, that Cager is able to do the impossible.” Cager looked at Biddy and motioned for her to come closer to him and Wesley. “He won’t hurt you now.”

Biddy put away her knife and walked over to Cager and Wesley.

“Sorry for knocking you out,” she said to Wesley, looking at the floor while she spoke.”

“It’s fine,” said Wesley. “I would have done the same to you.” He extended his hand to Biddy. “Wesley Frye.”

Biddy shook his hand. “Oliver Button.” Brown. Wesley’s eyes were brown.

“So,” said Cager. Biddy turned to him. He had green eyes, curly red hair, and skin just slightly lighter than Wesley’s, with freckles across his nose and cheeks. He wore a shirt similar to Wesley’s but with a different style of pants, curving in after the knee instead of flaring out. Like Wesley, he was barefoot. “Shall we go up to the deck?”

“Aye,” said Wesley, and he and Cager turned and started walking toward the ladder to the deck.

“Wait,” said Biddy, following them. The two boys turned to face her.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Oh,” Cager said. He laughed a little and looked at Wesley. “That would be a good thing to tell him.”

Wesley looked at Biddy again. “We’re going to the colonies.”

They turned and climbed up the ladder. Biddy stayed where she was, looking blankly into the hold in shock. She knew now that she would never see Con again.

Author's Note

Let me know what you think! Constructive criticism much appreciated :)