These remarks seemed to resolve any doubts that may have existed in Riley's mind of the genuineness of the face at the window.
CHAPTER XII
The Cook's Watch—Materialism Versus Astralism
I had the key to the Captain's room in my pocket and knew that no one was in there, but Riley's story had taken such a serious trend that I decided to withhold the news from them.
"Well, Riley," I said carelessly, "you are easily frightened, when Toby can scare you like this."
Here they all jumped toward me, and started to talk at once. Charlie, calling for order, decided that now was the time to fix me forever. He introduced Broken-Nosed Pete, who had always been inclined to be skeptical, to put the finishing touches on Riley's story.
Pete, I may state, when he was rational, was unaffected in his speech by the rather unusual list of his nose. But tonight, moved by powerful feelings, he threw convention to the winds, and spoke in loud nasal tones, and with gestures befitting an orator.
"Go on," said Charlie, pushing him forward, "tell him, Pete."
"I had just called the watch below," he began, "and was taking my smoke and a bite of lunch. By that time it was eight bells. I was pulling down my blankets about to turn in, when I sees Riley coming down the scuttle with his cap in his hand and very warm looking. 'Is Toby in here?' ses Riley. 'He is,' ses I. 'He is over in Russian-Finn John's bunk.' 'Holy Mother of God,' ses Riley, 'get me a drink of water, 'tis fainting I am.' 'What's wrong, Riley?' I asks. 'Oh, be Hivins,' ses he, 'I have made the mistake of me life by ever shipping on this dirty old graveyard.' As for the rest, sir, you have heard it from Riley."