"Very good, sir," replied Bob.
He knew that the "doctor" was the cook of the vessel, and it would be new business to him to help the cook. He was a fat, jolly man, and seemed to be as good-natured as the second mate was cross and surly. He went into the forecastle and began gathering up the dishes, and when he thought that the second mate had gone forward to superintend the men he thrust his hand into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.
"Thank goodness that is safe," said he, running over the bills to make sure that they were all there. "It is all in my wallet, with the exception of the twenty-six dollars that I paid to the livery-stable keeper for the keeping of my ponies. I tell you, Joe Lufkin didn't know how much money he was handling when he knocked me down."
"Hi yah, boy!" exclaimed the doctor, as he came into the galley with his arms full of dishes. "Has you been detailed to help me?"
"Detailed," said Bob. "That sounds as though you had been in the service."
"Thank goodness, I was dar," replied the doctor. "I belonged to General Potter's brigade, an' was in the Fifty-fifth Massachusetts when we marched into Charleston. Every one of us used to be slaves. Yes, sar; I was dar."
"Then you won't be very hard on me," said Bob. "My father used to command a gun-boat during the war, and my friend used to be boatswain's mate of her."
"Say, look here, boy." The doctor tiptoed to the door, thrust his head out to make sure there was no one within hearing, and then stepped back again. "You ain't got no business here. I saw you ashore yesterday, driving a span of ponies. Did dem ponies b'long to you?"
"Yes, they are mine, although a relative tried to cheat me out of them."
"I wonder if you ain't that boy in Clifton that everybody is making so much fuss about?" said the darky. He glanced out of the galley window and saw the second mate approaching, and that made him change his tune. "Dar, now, put dem dishes right down dar an' den go back an' get the balance. You hear me?"