Captain Eri had fallen asleep in the rocker where he had seated himself upon his return from the fruitless search for the coat. He had had no intention of sleeping, but he was tired after his strenuous work at the fire, and had dropped off in the midst of his worry. He sprang to his feet, and tried to separate dreams from realities.
“Land of love, Perez!” he ejaculated. “Here you and me have been sleepin' ha'f the forenoon. We'd ought to be ashamed of ourselves. Let's git dressed quicker 'n chain lightnin'.”
“Dressed?” queried Perez, sitting up in bed. “I should think you was dressed now, boots and all. What are you talkin' 'bout?”
The Captain glanced down at his clothes and seemed as much surprised as his friend. He managed to pull himself together, however, and stammered:
“Dressed? Oh, I'm dressed, of course. It's you I'm tryin' to git some life into.”
“Well, why didn't you call a feller, 'stead of gittin' up and dressin' all by yourself. I never see such a critter. Where's my socks?”
To avoid further perplexing questions Captain Eri went into the dining room. The table was set, really set, with a clean cloth and dishes that shone. The knives and forks were arranged by the plates, not piled in a heap for each man to help himself. The Captain gasped.
“Well, I swan to man!” he said. “Has Jerry had a fit or what's struck him? I ain't seen him do anything like this for I don't know when.”
“Oh, Cap'n Burgess didn't fix the table, if that's what you mean,” said the new nurse. “Cap'n Baxter seemed to be sleepin' or in a stupor like, and the Doctor, when he come, said I might leave him long enough to run downstairs for a few minutes, so—”
“The Doctor? Has the Doctor been here this mornin'?”