“No, I shall not like to, but I would rather lie down on deck than occupy the stateroom with you.”
“You are making a fool of yourself,” said the professor, biting his lip.
“The lad is right,” said Jack. “He won’t have to sit up all night. There is a vacant bunk near mine, and if he isn’t too proud to sleep with rough sailors, he can pass the night there.”
“I will do it Jack,” said Bernard. “I haven’t any foolish pride. If the forecastle is fit for you to sleep in, it’s fit for me.”
He walked off with Jack, and Professor Puffer was left gnawing his lip.
“What a scrape I have got into!” he said to himself. “But for that rascally sailor the boy would have dropped into the water and that would have been the last of him. Then I would have got a thousand dollars from Mr. McCracken, and had a hold on him that would have amounted to a great deal more. As it is, unless the sailor and the boy keep silent, I shall be in the worst scrape of my life.”
A little reflection, however, allayed the fears of Professor Puffer. In a short time the boy and Jack would part company, and if Bernard ever brought up this subject again, and charged him with attempted murder, his testimony would be unsupported, and would carry very little weight with it, especially as Mr. McCracken would side with him against the boy.
Bernard slept that night in the forecastle, and enjoyed as good a night’s rest as usual. The next day he was transferred, at Mr. Puffer’s request, to a vacant stateroom, on the ground that he could not sleep as well with another person in the same room. The purser asked why he had waited so long before suggesting the change.
“I didn’t want to make trouble,” replied the professor carelessly.
As Professor Puffer agreed to pay extra for the additional stateroom, no objections were made, and henceforth—though it was only for three nights—Bernard had a room to himself.