Chapter 1

It was a beautiful spring day as a carriage rolled up the long, winding road to Hillcrest Academy.  Alexander Sr. stepped from the carriage and beckoned the driver’s attention. “I shall be requiring your continued services,” he informed in an authoritative tone.  The driver nodded in  acknowledgment.  Alexander Sr. then approached the doors of the academy and  entered.  Seeing the secretary was absent from her post, he took it upon himself to poke his head into the office of the dean.

“LO AND BEHOLD!” he yelled out. “IF IT ISN’T CRAB-FISH CRAWFORD!”  The dean looked up as surprised as could be.  And as recognition came over his face, he dropped his work to his desk and stood up.

“Well, if it isn’t, Sea Serpent Smith!  Come in, come in!” he prompted as he walked toward Alexander.  “What brings you to Hillcrest Academy?”

“First, let me take a look at you,” Alexander Sr. replied as he cast his eyes over his old acquaintance.  “It seems you’re carrying a little too much cargo in your hull there,” and he slapped the back of his hand against the flab of Crawford’s stomach.  The captain put his fists to his waist with his elbows winged out and looked into Crawford’s eyes as he spoke.  “How did a messmate become the dean of a boy’s academy?”

“That was twenty years ago – you ol’ sea dog; since then I’ve become something.”

Alexander gave a hearty laugh.  “I’ll hand that to you!”

Crawford asked Alexander to take a seat.  He then walked around to the back of his desk and sat down.  Repeating his question Crawford asked, “So what brings you here?”

Alexander answered bluntly.  “My grandson has been sentenced to this place.  I’ve come to break him out.”

“Your grandson…?”

“Yes, Michael Smith.”

“Do you mean Michael Alexander Smith?”  Crawford questioned.  “Well!  Will wonders ever cease?!  He’s one of our brightest boys.”  A proud smile came over the captain’s face.  The dean, concealing his real feelings, put on strong airs of praise.  After a small chat the dean asked,  “So what are your plans for your grandson?”

“Well Mate, I have cargo to unload at Spain’s Port of Cadiz and I want my grandson to accompany me.”

The dean raised his bushy eyebrows then squinted as though he was wrestling with a thought.  “How long will this little jaunt take?”

Alexander placed his elbow on the arm of the chair as he leaned to one side.  “Good weather and smooth sailing – about fifteen days.”

An expression came over the dean’s face that reflected some concern. “Captain,” he stated with scholarly tact, “releasing your grandson at this time will be a bit of a sticky wicket.  Spring finals will be in session in one week, and we have very strict rules concerning leaves during this period.  Even if by force of compelling circumstances any boy had to be dismissed early, he would have to make up the work.”

“Where’s your sense of ingenuity gone Mate?  When you wanted leave from my ship against my objections, could I ever prevent it?”  Crawford smiled.  “Ah, so  you admit it!”  Alexander humorously accused.

“Oh yes, I admit it!  Because I’m here, and with twenty years behind me.  Twenty years that separate me from your scurvy wrath.”

“Have a heart man.”  Alexander got up from the chair.  He walked over to the window then turned and stared down at Crawford’s face.