"But he did come back. Danforth Eaton and all the crew told me that there was a good fire in the fireplace; that he had got breakfast well under way the next morning when they turned out, and had gone ashore, as they supposed, to get something for his 'lobscouse,' and fell overboard."
"Peterson never made that fire, nor peeled the potatoes and onions, or cut the pork and put it in the frying-pan; but he pounded the coffee and chopped the beef the night before, for I saw him do it."
"Who did the rest?"
"The cap'n did it himself."
"The captain?"
"Ay. I had a tooth that grumbled, and didn't sleep well. I heard the cap'n get out of his berth, like a, cat crawling after a squirrel, and, having my suspicions, I followed him, and saw what he was up to—saw him kindle the fire, put on the tea-kettle, and do all the other things."
"But his boy, Ben, told me that they found his handkerchief on the fender."
"True; but it was a handkerchief that he wore on his head when he was cooking, and kept it on a nail before the fire, and the cap'n put it on the fender himself. Besides, what did he want to send Peterson to the office with letters that were blank, if it was not to make an errand to get him ashore in the night, that he might be kidnapped?"
"Blank letters?"
"Ay. I peeked through the skylight, and saw him fold and direct them, and there was not a word written in them."