“You can see him to-morrow. You’d better get into your bunk right smart. I’ll help you down.”
“Thank you. I’ll go alone–in a minute,” said Butler, pulling himself up by the rail to which he clung unsteadily. “I don’t want anyone to know. I’ll tell Mr. Darwood what I have to say.”
“Have it your own way. I’m going to follow along behind, to see that you get down all right,” answered the man.
“Thank you. I guess you saved me from 42getting a wetting,” said the boy, extending an impulsive hand. “Now I’ll go to my cabin. Please don’t say anything about this. Good-night.”
Tad’s progress below was slow and unsteady. Dawson watched him until the door of the cabin had closed behind the Pony Rider Boy.
“That’s a raw deal,” muttered the miner. “I’d like to punch the head of the fellow who would do that to a kid!”
Butler got into his bunk without awakening his companions. His head ached terribly, and it was a long time before he fell asleep. The next morning his head felt twice its ordinary size. The boys joked him on his appearance, but Tad merely smiled, refusing to say what had been the matter with him. Ned was suspicious. He knew that Butler had been engaged in a scuffle, but what it was he was unable to imagine. Tad had been strolling about the decks all the morning, as if in search of someone. He found the man he was seeking late in the forenoon. The man was sitting on a keg of nails on the after part of the upper deck, his back to Tad.
“Good morning, Mr. Ketcham,” greeted the Pony Rider Boy.
The red-whiskered man whirled, letting the 43hand that had been caressing his beard fall limply to his side.
“Beard hurt you?” questioned Tad sweetly.