"That little nigger's a brick!" he said to himself. "As to that other boy, I'd like to throw him overboard. He's too fond of meddling with other people's business."
It may occur to the reader that this was hardly a fair way of stating the case. As the boat belonged to Bob, and he was the commander, it might safely be assumed that he had a right to inquire into anything that excited his suspicion.
"Are you goin' back to bed, Massa Bob?" asked Clip, uneasily.
"Wait a minute, Clip; I want to get a drink of water."
Again poor Clip was in bad luck. The tin dipper had been used to procure the whisky, and of course it still smelled strongly of that liquor.
"Clip," said Bob, as soon as he had raised it to his lips, "you got some whisky in this cup."
"Ye'es," admitted Clip.
"And you drank it yourself instead of giving it to any gentleman."
"No, I didn't, Massa Bob," stoutly, and as we know truly, asserted Clip.
"I'm ashamed of you, Clip. If you are going to act in this way, I shall have to send you home. You have been acting very queerly this evening. Sam and I both noticed it, but I didn't think you had formed a taste for whisky."