It was destined Ned should know very soon what the “favor” was which Captain Bragg wanted of the mate, although he little dreamed then that it would cause him so much alarm.
From the time Mr. Stout left him until late in the night Ned slept soundly, and then he was awakened by hearing the familiar voice of the captain say in a loud tone just outside the door of his state-room:
“There’s no need of your bein’ on deck for the next half-hour, Mr. Stout, so let’s go into the pantry for some grog. That lazy steward hasn’t left any in the cabin.”
“I’ll bring it to you there, sir, if you’ll wait a minute.”
“There’s no occasion for it. We can go in here as well, and there’ll be less chance any one overhears us while we’re talking.”
Ned heard the door of the pantry opened, and then it was as if the captain had entered the boy’s room, so far as the latter’s ability to hear all that might be said was concerned.
The partition between the two apartments was composed of only one thickness of thin boards, and a whisper would have sounded distinct in the confined space.
“It seems rather odd to see the captain of a craft like this huntin’ his own lunch,” Mr. Stout said laughingly.
“I’d rather do it just now while the second officer is in his room, for I’ve got something private to say to you which wouldn’t be safe even in the cabin.”
There was a few moments of silence, and then the mate said, as if about to partake of some liquor: