"An' there ain't no parrot aboard. Well, it beats all my goin' to sea," muttered the other. "My crowd was all in the foc's'le 'cept Derringer, who was doin' a doss on deck, an' I see'd him standin' in your mob as I come along aft."
"Wall, then, if he was with my crowd o' hoodlums, it couldn't ha' been him, though if thar's any deadbeat aboard who's got the cheek ter do it, it's thet durned Britisher."
A curious grim smile appeared on Jack's face as his sharp ears caught the mate's remark.
Like the others, he had been awakened by the first groan.
As it ceased he heard a long-drawn breath, and looking round, spied the small white face of the ship's boy, outlined by the moonlight, as he crouched up against the mast behind the pump wheel.
Even as he watched he saw the small mouth open, at the same moment the groan broke out again, apparently by the midshiphouse.
Silently Jack gazed, marvelling. No sound seemed to come from the boy, but as the groan ceased his mouth closed, and he drew a long breath.
"Well, I'm jiggered," muttered Jack to himself. "The boy's a ventriloquist, and a wonderful one at that."
Then the kid threw his voice into the mizzen-top, and the words which had caused such consternation burst forth.
This time his mouth was nearly closed, and only a very keen observer could have detected any movement in his lips.