This much was settled, and Bob breathed easier after that. He would get a good night's sleep, anyway, provided the mate didn't find it necessary to shorten sail too often. All that day Bob was kept busy in the galley, and when the dishes were washed up after supper he was done for the day. The cook filled his pipe and went out for a smoke, and Bob strolled out to find Ben Watson.
CHAPTER XVII.
THE DESERTERS.
"Ah! Here you are," said Ben, who had moved up as close to the galley as he could get. "You have come to hear how I got aboard this craft, haven't you?"
"Where did you get your pipe?" asked Bob, seeing that Ben was puffing industriously at a well-blackened briar-root which Bob had never seen him use before.
"I got it of one of the sailors," said Ben. "Say, Joe Lufkin didn't bring you aboard here in broad daylight?"
"No, he did not," replied Bob, indignantly. "He waited until after dark, and then knocked me down."
"Well, he brought me off here before noon," said Ben, who got so angry when he spoke of the circumstance that it was all he could do to make himself understood. "He knocked me down in daylight and brought me here."
"Why, how did that come? I didn't suppose there was a man in the world that could do that to you."
"He did it, and he did it as slick as grease, too," said Ben, pulling off his hat and digging his fingers into his hair. "Oh, don't I wish I could see that man now!"
With this introduction Ben went on and told the story of his capture. There wasn't much to tell, of course, for he did not remember a thing after he permitted Joe to come close to him. The next thing he knew he was in the bunk in the forecastle, with an aching head and a stomach that was parched for water.