“I see somethin' like it once,” interrupted Bill. “Down in the Gulf 'twas. I was on the old Fishhawk. Eben Salters's dad from over to Bayport skippered her. We picked up a West Injy schooner, derelict, abandoned same as this one, but not anchored, of course. Yeller jack was the trouble aboard her and—Where you bound, Thoph?”
“Goin' to take a squint at the fo'castle,” replied Theophilus, moving forward. The minister followed him.
The fo'castle hatchway was black and grim. Ellery knelt and peered down. Here there was practically no light at all and the air was fouler than that in the cabin.
“See anything, Mr. Ellery?” asked Thoph, looking over his shoulder.
“No, I don't see anything. But I thought—”
He seemed to be listening.
“What did you think?”
“Nothing. I—”
“Hold on! you ain't goin' down there, be you? I wouldn't. No tellin' what you might find. Well, all right. I ain't curious. I'll stay up here and you can report.”
He stepped over and leaned against the rail. Bill came across the deck and joined him.