As I have said before, I had a normal boy's curiosity about all that was going on around us. Perhaps, I have come to think, I had more than the ordinary boy's sense for important information. Roger Hamlin's warning had put me on my guard, and I intended to learn all I could and to keep my mouth shut where certain people were concerned.
"It's queer they don't say nothing to you about what's going on," Bill remarked.
For my own part I understood very well why they should say nothing of any underhanded trickery to one who ashore was so intimately acquainted with Captain Whidden and Roger Hamlin. But I kept my thoughts to myself and persisted in my questions.
"What is going on?"
"Oh, I don't just make out what." Bill's stupidity was exasperating at times. "It's something about Mr. Falk. Kipping, he—"
"Yes?" said that eternally mild voice. "Mr. Falk? And Kipping? What else please?"
Both Bill and I were startled to find Kipping at our elbows. But before either of us could answer, some one called down the hatch:—
"Lathrop is wanted aft."
Relieved at escaping from an embarrassing situation, I jumped up so promptly that my knife fell with a clatter, and hastened on deck, calling "Ay, ay," to the man who had summoned me. I knew very well why I was wanted aft.
Mr. Falk, who was on duty on the quarter-deck, completely ignored me as I passed him and went down the companionway.