"Anyhow," Kit added, "I only see one glass."
"He can hear ye, although he canna talk," Macallister resumed.
"Where were you when you got hurt?" Kit asked.
Scot moved his hand over his shoulder and Kit thought he meant to indicate the African coast.
"How did you get hurt?"
The other felt in his pocket and taking out a piece of lead dropped it on the table. Kit saw it was a bullet and the end was flattened.
"Hit a bone," Macallister remarked.
"But how did they get the bullet out? Wolf has not a doctor on board."
Macallister smiled scornfully. "When ye have gone to sea langer ye'll ken a sailor's talents. For a' that, ye'll no trust the captain if the boat carries an engineer. But I'm modest and will not boast."
Campeador, steaming before the big rollers, plunged violently. One heard the measured beat of engines and roar of broken seas. The mess-table slanted and Kit picked up the bullet, which rolled about and struck the ledge. He wanted to ask Scot something, but Macallister waved his hand.