There was the captain.
"Mr. Figgins," said the captain, with a serious air, and shaking his forefinger at him, "you have been indulging very early in the day."
"What?"
He could endure no more.
With a cry of disgust, he dashed past the captain, and scrambled up the stairs on deck.
Once there, he shot like a race horse along the deck, and gaining his own berth, he locked himself in.
But even here he could not shut out the ringing laughter of the incorrigible practical jokers.
Mr. Figgins, as you may guess, was seen no more that day.
Upon the day following the events just related, Jack received letters from home.