"Captain," said I, "I have made a twenty-thousand mile trip without a chronometer with old Captain Sigelhorst in the bark "Quickstep," not so long ago. We can surely get our position from a passing ship, and if not, we can make land, say off San Diego, and easily correct our position for Greenwich time."
"Well, it is a damned poor business, anyway."
Just then we were interrupted by Olsen, who reported to the Captain that Swanson was sick and refused to come on deck.
CHAPTER III
Beecham's Pills Are Worth a Guinea Though They Cost but Eighteen Pence
In those days, twenty years ago, sailing schooners had few men before the mast, and every man was called upon to do a man's work. If one of the crew were sick, it usually caused a great deal of trouble both fore and aft. In bad and stormy weather it was not uncommon for the old and seasoned sailor to play sick, provided he could get away with it. The usual symptom was lame back, so that the appetite might not be questioned. When the ship would emerge into fine weather, marvel of marvels, the sailor would recover in a moment.
"Sick, is he?" said the Captain, and pointed to me, saying: "Go forward and see what the trouble is."
"I am sure," I replied, "that he will be on deck before long, sir."
"All I have in the medicine chest is pills, yes, damn it, pills," and he waved me forward.