Cassidy took a look through the periscope and lashed the wheel; then he hurried to help Bob, who was lifting the unconscious man to a long locker at the side of the room.
“He ain’t never been right since he was sick in New Orleans,” muttered Cassidy. “He jumped into work before he was well enough.”
The captain’s former illness had been of a peculiar nature. An idol’s head, steeped in some noxious liquor that caused the head to give off a deadly odor, was, according to his firm belief, the cause of his sickness. Carl had also come under the influence of the poisonous odor, but it had had no such effect upon him. However, no two persons are exactly alike, and sometimes a thing that will work havoc with one may have no effect upon another.
“His heart action is good, Cassidy,” said Bob.
“He’s a sick man for all that,” replied the mate. “I’ve noticed for several hours he was nervous like. We’ll have to take him ashore at Belize, and you’ll have to be the captain while we’re doing the work that’s to be done.”
There was an under note in Cassidy’s voice that caused Bob to give him a keen look. The mate was a good fellow, but he was second in command, aboard the Grampus, and it was quite natural for him to expect to be the one who stepped into the captain’s shoes.
“You heard what Captain Nemo, junior, said?” asked Bob.
“Sure, I did,” returned the mate gruffly.
“I had not the least notion he was picking me for any such place.”