Walter sighed deeply. Just at that moment he was thinking of the loved ones whom he knew must be mourning his absence, and the word "home" caused such an uncomfortably big lump to rise in his throat that it was impossible to make any reply.
Perhaps the same syllable sent Jim's thoughts straying in a similar direction, for he began to whistle once more, and continued to do so until a voice from the companion-way asked, in a querulous tone:
"What's the matter? Short-handed as we are, do you think it's goin' to help out by havin' more wind!"
"It ain't blowin' any harder than it was when you went below," Jim replied in surprise, understanding by the tone of the voice that it was Bob Brace who had spoken.
"That's jes' why you wanter tie up the whistle. It'll bring a gale if you keep on much longer!"
Then the sound of footsteps told that the speaker had returned to the cabin, and Jim said, in a low tone, to Walter:
"Them old sailors are as full of whims as a dog is of fleas. Some of them on the Mary Walker had signs for everything a feller did; but I never saw any come true. Tom Downey, the mate, allers fussed when birds flew 'round the schooner, 'cause he said they'd bring on a gale, an' in a dead calm he'd either whistle or wish he had a cat to throw overboard."
"What for?"
"So's to bring a wind. He says it'll allers come when you do that; but of course its foolishness. Then again, if I happened to whistle, no matter how calm it was, I'd get a rope's endin' 'cause they think a boy mustn't so much as squeak. If I'd believed Bob could hear me I'd know'd enough to hold my tongue."
"Did you get whipped very often on the Mary?" Walter asked, with a mild curiosity.