“Wasn’t my watch,” said that worthy, “but the skipper’s. Dick, ’Pollo, and Bob Lennie was on deck for one spell.”
“Do you know why the boat was lowered?” said the captain, turning to the men, who had just left their hammocks.
Bob Lennie the quiet shook his head, and Dick Rolls’ eyes nearly disappeared under the thick bridge of his nose as he stared down with his head first on one side, then on the other.
“No, I dunno,” he growled. “I never knowed it was lowered.”
The question was passed round, but no one knew anything about it; and the men shook their heads, and seemed to think it was very mysterious.
For there seemed to be no reason why it should have been let down. Had it been missing altogether, and a man or two with it, the cause would have been plain; but every man of the crew was on deck, and one and all denied knowledge of the boat having been touched.
This excited the suspicion of the captain again; but the busy events of the morning chased the feeling away, and it was soon forgotten.
For Sam Oakum was to all intents and purposes now captain of the schooner, and ’Pollo his mate, as the former took the direction, had the anchor heaved up, and, consulting again and again with the latter, the vessel was allowed to drift with the current a few hundred yards.
“Do you feel pretty certain, Oakum?” said the captain, after a time, for the old sailor’s actions did not inspire him with much confidence. In fact, after running half a mile with the current, he suddenly gave orders for a couple of sails to be hoisted, put the schooner about, and began to beat back.
“You let me alone,” growled Oakum. “I’m a-doing the best I can. You see, it’s a good many years since I was here, and the bearings ar’n’t so fresh in my mem’ry as they was.”