Chapter Fifteen.
Another Cruise Ashore.
Lieutenant Lipscombe made up his mind half a dozen times over that he would run into port and send in a despatch detailing Hilary Leigh’s desertion; and each time that he so made up his mind, and had the cutter’s head laid in the required direction, his eye became so painful that the cook had to supply hot water from the galley, and the worthy officer went below to bathe the injured optic.
Each time as the inflammation was relieved the lieutenant unmade his mind, and decided to wait a little longer, going on deck again to superintend the repairs Joe Smith, the carpenter, familiarly known as “Chips,” was proceeding with in the damaged deck.
There was a great deal to do and the carpenter was doing that great deal well, but at his own pace, for “Chips” was not a rapid man. If he had a hole to make with gimlet or augur he did not dash at it and perhaps bore the hole a quarter or half an inch out of place, but took his measurements slowly and methodically, and no matter who or what was waiting he went steadily on.
There was enough in the composition of “Chips” to make anyone believe that he had descended from a family in the far-off antiquity who were bears; for he was heavy and bearlike in all his actions, especially in going up or coming down a ladder, and his caution was proverbial amongst the crew.
So deliberately were the proceedings now going on that Lieutenant Lipscombe grew hot every time he went on deck, and the hotter the commander became the cooler grew “Chips.”
The lieutenant stormed and bade him make haste.
“You are disgracefully slow, sir,” he exclaimed.