"Well, that's the name you made your mark to on the ship's articles when you were brought aboard, the drunkest sailor I ever seen."
"That's exactly it," said Beekman. "I'm no sailor, and my name is not Smith."
"What's your name?"
"Beekman; Derrick Beekman."
"How came you aboard my ship?"
"I suppose I've been shanghaied. I don't know any more than you do; perhaps not as much."
"You mean," roared the captain, "that I had any hand in bringing you here?"
"I don't know anything about that. I only know that I was to be married today, Thursday."
"'Tain't Thursday; it's Friday. You've been in a drunken stupor since Thursday morning."
"Friday!"