Appleby understood the question, and though he fancied he was doing wisely made a blunder. "I think I can do all I told him, sir," he said. "You see, this ship is carrying Mr. Niven's goods, and one could fancy the Company is glad to get them."
"Niven?" said the skipper, more to himself than the others. "Most of the freight belongs to Clarke and Hall."
"They're dead," said Appleby, who had been told this. "There's only Mr. Niven in the business now."
The skipper looked thoughtful. "Now I remember," he said as he turned towards the mate, and stopped. "Well, this is my affair, Appleby, and I'm the only man who can question what the mate does on board this ship. If you do it again it will be the worse for you. Remember that."
Appleby touched his cap and moved away, and presently Niven came forward from the poop with his head tied up. He was still pale, and moved slowly, while he had little to tell his comrade.
"He put some stuff that smarted on the cut, but didn't ask any questions, and told me to lie down," he said. "I'm going to do it because I'm not myself yet. My head's all humming, and I don't seem to want to talk."
Appleby helped him into his bunk, and then went back to his watch, while he told Lawson all that had passed when he next had an opportunity. The elder lad listened gravely.
"You fancy the old man believed you?" he said.
"Yes," said Appleby. "It isn't my fault if he didn't. I did my best to make him."
Lawson shook his head. "Then I'm afraid you made a mess of things," he said. "You see, if the old man believed you the mate would."