Doc chuckled again.
"I know how to handle that low-down trash," he whispered, tragically. "I'd drap somethin' in his tea. Good-night, Mr. Trask."
"Good-night, Doc. Don't make a light."
"No, sah," and the steward crept away to his bunk, leaving Trask staring up into the dark, turning over the situation in his mind, and waiting for the dawn.
CHAPTER XI
Mr. Peth Does Most Amazing Things
Trask was up at dawn, and slipping out on deck, saw Jarrow sitting on the forecastle head, drinking coffee, a plate of biscuits beside him, while he kept watch on the island.
Doc stuck his head out of the galley. "Coffee, Mr. Trask?" he called, cautiously.