Meantime, events were in progress in the cabin of the ship, of which the boys were in entire ignorance, but which materially affected their welfare.
Captain Morris and his mate had celebrated the sailing of the Golden Moose by drinking very freely, and immediately after the boatswain’s visit to the boys the captain had come on deck.
It had been Jack Marcy’s intention to approach the Captain on the subject of the stowaways.
The Captain’s sullen face and rough manner, however, deterred him from carrying his plan into operation. Under the influence of liquor, Captain Morris was a worse tyrant than ever, and he made it uncomfortable for all the men he came in contact with by finding fault with them or threatening chastisement for some alleged dereliction of duty.
Finally his attention was directed to a little knot of men gathered on the deck, in the centre of which was a pale and excited sailor, who was gesticulating violently and pointing to the forecastle.
“What’s the row here?” angrily demanded the Captain, approaching the men. “What are you loitering around here for?”
“Ben Allen has seen a spirit, sir,” spoke up one of the men.
“What’s this nonsense? Too much rum, I guess,” gruffly replied Morris.
“I did see a spirit, Captain, all the same,” seriously answered the sailor named Ben Allen.
“Whose?” inquired the Captain, scoffingly.