“The fat jolly chap’s the chief steward,” went on Peggy. “Best man on the ship. The long un’s the doctor.”
The officers continued examining the ship for things that needed repairing. They came back toward the waist, and halted several times within a few feet of me to look over some part of the ship’s machinery or furnishings. When the scuppers had been ordered cleaned and the pump had been pronounced in proper condition, the mate turned to the captain and pointed angrily at me:
“There he is, sir.”
“Ah,” said the captain. “What was your object, young man, in stowing yourself away on this vessel?”
I began the story I had tried to tell the first officer. The captain heard it all without interrupting me.
“Yes, I know,” he said, when I had finished. “Port Said is a very unfortunate place in which to be left without money. But why did you not come on board and ask permission to work your passage?”
“I did, sir!” I cried. “That’s just what I did! I brought a letter to the chief steward. That’s how I came on board, sir.”
“That’s so!” put in the “fat jolly chap”; “he sent a note to me in the drawing-room. But I sent back word that we had all the men we needed.”
“I see,” replied the captain thoughtfully. “You’re the first man that ever stowed away on a vessel under my command,” he went on almost sadly. “You make yourself liable to severe punishment, you know?”
“I’d put him in irons and send him up, sir,” burst out the mate.