Timothy, who had been curbing his temper, now threw away all reins.
"Where is the keeper?" he asked stormily. "I don't believe he can say that."
"Oh, he is upstairs, and well enough to see us. The doctor says he is doing well. And walk up, gentlemen," said Dave, "walk up!"
Bart was reading to the old man, who was seated in a rocking-chair near his bed. The company almost filled the little room, but the light-keeper bade them welcome.
"Mr. Tolman," said Thomas, "won't you tell Cap'n Sinclair what you told me about the taking of the chronometer?"
"Oh yes," said the old light-keeper slowly. "I was feeling very sick, so much so that I concluded to lie down. I s'pose I was lying with my eyes 'most shut, when I heard a step and saw a man come in, and he looked at me, and then he stood on a chair, examined the top of that clothes-press, and took down a chronometer--an old thing, but it might be fixed up. The man thought I was asleep, and I didn't see his face, only it seemed to me as if he had whiskers, and when he stood on a chair to reach the chronometer he looked--standing with his back to me---as if it was Dave Fletcher. Well, I was that weak I couldn't speak, and my visitor went off, supposing, I daresay, that I was asleep. Well, I kept it on my mind, forgetting the whiskers, that it was Dave, and I charged him with it. Sorry I did--"
"Well," said Timothy fiercely, "why wasn't it Fletcher? It is about time that innocent chap should do something."
"He says--Mr. Tolman says," observed Captain Sinclair, "that you and Fletcher look alike."
"Wall," bawled Timothy, "why couldn't it have been Fletcher much as me, don't you see? Come you--you feller--you stand by this clothes-press and reach up, and let's see how you look."
"This 'feller' is ready," said Dave, going to the clothes-press and reaching to its top.