"No, massa; it's for a sick man."
"Where's the sick man?"
"On board a boat."
Upon this representation the whisky was obtained, and Clip started on his return. His curiosity led him to take a swallow of the whisky he was carrying, but it did not commend itself to Clip's palate.
"It's nasty stuff!" he said with a grimace; "I don't see what fo' people drink it."
He carried the drink safely to the passenger, who drank it and smacked his lips over it. "It goes to the right spot," he said.
"Do those boys sleep sound?" he asked.
"Then I'll get out of this beastly hole and take a turn on deck."
"Be keerful, massa!" said Clip anxiously.