Ruth did not see how she could refuse the respectful and sensible first officer, but she certainly was angry with Captain Hastings and she swept by him to the stairway without giving him another glance.
“It’s all bosh!” she heard him say to Mr. Dowd, as she started for the open deck.
Her dignity was hurt, as well as her indignation aroused. She was not in the habit of having her word doubted; and it seemed that Captain Hastings certainly did consider that there was reason for thinking her untruthful. She was more than sorry that she had taken the Red Cross man’s advice and brought this matter to the attention of Mr. Dowd in the first place.
Yet the first officer was her friend. She could see that. He did not intend to let the matter rest at a point where Captain Hastings would have any reason for intimating that Ruth had not been exact in her statements of fact.
Of course, the girl of the Red Mill had not taken so close a look at the ship’s officer who had driven the stoker off the deck, as she had at the stoker himself. But she was quite confident she would know him. She had not seen him since, that was sure.
After half an hour or so Mr. Dowd came to the place where she sat sheltered from the stiff breeze that was blowing, with a uniformed man in toll. It was not the officer whom she had seen early in the morning.
“I quite remember seeing Miss Fielding on deck at dawn,” said the young fellow politely. “But I do not remember seeing any of the crew except those at work scrubbing down.”
“This was on the starboard run, Miss Fielding?” suggested Mr. Dowd.
“Yes, sir. It was right yonder,” and she pointed to the spot in question.
“It must be Dykman, then, you wish to see, Mr. Dowd,” said the under officer, saluting. “Shall I send him here, sir?”