"Stop, you dog!" shouted the captain in sudden rage. "If you say another word along that line I'll knock you down!"
The mate took a step backward, and mumbled an apology.
"Go on, Drew," ordered the captain. "When did you lose sight of Mr. Parmalee?"
"I slipped on the deck and struck my head on the corner of the hatch-cover. Mr. Parmalee was with me at the time. I lost my senses from the blow, and when I came to, Parmalee wasn't there. I remember thinking it strange that he hadn't helped me when I fell, but I was dizzy and confused and soon forgot about it. If I thought of him at all, it was to suppose that he had gone to his room. I fully expected to see him at the breakfast table this morning, and I was as much surprised as you were when he didn't turn up."
His story was told so frankly and simply that it carried conviction. But Ditty still had a card up his sleeve. He went over to the open companion-way.
"Give me that cane, Bill," he called to a sailor standing at a little distance.
The man obeyed, and a thrill went through the group as they recognized it as having belonged to Lester Parmalee. Ruth was making a strong effort for self-control.
"Look at the blood-stains on this cane," said Ditty triumphantly, as he handed it over to the captain.
There were, in truth, dark red stains on the end of the cane, standing out clearly in contrast with the light oak color of the stick itself.
"That's where the cut on Mr. Drew's head come from, jest as I says," proclaimed Ditty.