The persecution began next morning.
CHAPTER X.
WAR AHEAD!
The skipper was on the bridge near the quarter-deck next morning, when the surgeon tripped up the ladder, saluted, and handed him the sick-list book.
"What!" shouted Flint. "Fifteen on the sick-list, sir, out of a small crew like this?"
"Yes, sir."
"What's the meaning of it, sir? What's the meaning of it? I've been in a line-of-battle ship with no more on the list than this."
"The cases, Captain Flint, are chiefly coast ulcer. I do my duty, sir, and it will go hard with anyone who denies it. And it is also my duty, sir, to inform you, that if you continue to get into red-faced rages, like that from which you are now suffering, you will before long have a fit of apoplexy."
"When I want your valuable advice, Dr. Grant, I will send for you."
"Thank you, Captain Flint. Delighted, I'm sure!"