Calling Doc Bird from the galley, Trask set about putting his things in order in his room, and sent the steward inside to open the biggest bag, which was secured with straps.
"I reckon we better take this out, sir," suggested Doc, as he made an effort to get the straps loose. He found it hard to work in the narrow little room.
"No," said Trask, "open it in here." He stood in the doorway, and let the door rest against his back, holding it partly closed with one hand. It was his purpose to keep Doc shut in, and so be able to question him without being overheard.
"Mighty hard to open," said Doc, down on his knees, struggling with the straps. It was hot in the room, and rather dark, as the deadlight to the poop-deck was fogged by sea water.
"You're new to the schooner, aren't you?" asked Trask.
"Yassir. I jus' shipped fo' the roun' trip."
"How long have you known Mr. Peth?" Trask kept his voice low, and bent down to Doc.
"Yassir. I know Mr. Peth. I know him fo' a long time."
"Have you sailed with him before?"
"Yassir. I been along with Cap'n Jarrow an' Mr. Peth off an' on six years. Got a key fo' this hyar satchel?"