I very soon grew to be quite fond of our funny black friend Bumpo, with his grand way of speaking and his enormous feet which some one was always stepping on or falling over. Although he was much older than I was and had been to college, he never tried to lord it over me. He seemed to be forever smiling and kept all of us in good humor. It wasn’t long before I began to see the Doctor’s good sense in bringing him—in spite of the fact that he knew nothing whatever about sailing or travel.
On the morning of the fifth day out, just as I was taking the wheel over from the Doctor, Bumpo appeared and said,
“The salt beef is nearly all gone, Sir.”
“The salt beef!” cried the Doctor. “Why, we brought a hundred and twenty pounds with us. We couldn’t have eaten that in five days. What can have become of it?”
“I don’t know, Sir, I’m sure. Every time I go down to the stores I find another hunk missing. If it is rats that are eating it, then they are certainly colossal rodents.”
Polynesia who was walking up and down a stay-rope taking her morning exercise, put in,
“We must search the hold. If this is allowed to go on we will all be starving before a week is out. Come downstairs with me, Tommy, and we will look into this matter.”
So we went downstairs into the store-room and Polynesia told us to keep quite still and listen. This we did. And presently we heard from a dark corner of the hold the distinct sound of someone snoring.
“Ah, I thought so,” said Polynesia. “It’s a man—and a big one. Climb in there, both of you, and haul him out. It sounds as though he were behind that barrel—Gosh! We seem to have brought half of Puddleby with us. Anyone would think we were a penny ferry-boat. Such cheek! Haul him out.”