"I mean," replied he, "that this walking in here was not produced by any action of the second mate or the man at the wheel."
I told him that nevertheless I had the mystery solved, and I would prove it to him. "We have in the lower hold one hundred thousand feet of kiln-dried spruce boards one-half inch thick, and twenty-six to thirty inches wide. They vary in length from eighteen to thirty-six feet. The after bulkhead does not run flush with the deck above, and there are ends of boards that project over and into the runway. With the easy movement of the ship, this will produce a metallic sound that will cause vibration at a distance, and more distinctly under the Captain's room."
At this the cook became very indignant, and told me that my theory was not correct at all.
"Haven't I spent a half hour in the lazarette looking and listening for just such sounds as you describe?"
"Are you sure that there are no rats in his room?"
"If there are, I fail to find them. I have placed cheese around the room to convince myself. On examination of the cheese I couldn't find a tooth mark."
"But why are there no sounds of walking in there now?"
"That is what baffles me," said the cook. "Since we have been talking there has not been a sound from that room."
I sent him to turn in, assuring him that I would sit in the room for an hour or so to see what would happen, and to try to solve a mystery that was beginning to try even my seasoned nerves.