Chase, believing from Bob’s tone and manner, that he had found something very much out of the way in the hold, started toward the companion-way; but just before he reached it, a thought struck him, and he stopped and looked earnestly at the man. “What’s the matter down there?” he asked.
“One of the water-butts has sprung a leak, sir,” said the sailor.
“That’s a dreadful calamity, isn’t it? Don’t you know what to do in such a case? Bail the water out of the leaky butt into one of the others.”
“But there’s none to bail out, sir. Every drop has leaked out, and the water is ankle deep all over the hold.”
“Wilson,” said Chase, turning to his companion, “just give a stroke or two on that pump, will you?”
Wilson did as he was requested, but not a drop of water was brought up. The Banner’s hold was as dry as a piece of hard-tack.
“How are you, leaky water-butt!” exclaimed Chase, with a significant glance at Wilson. “Anything else wrong below, Bob?”
The sailor, somewhat disconcerted, did not know what to say at first, but after a look at Tomlinson, he replied:
“Yes, sir. Everything is pitched out of place, and I shall need some one to help me put ’em to rights. I can’t lift those heavy tool-chests by myself.”
“Look here, Bob,” said Chase, suddenly; “you’re not a good hand at this business. You can’t tell a falsehood and keep a straight face.”