Returning from a walk on deck, Joe found his guardian lying down in the stateroom.
“Is anything the matter, Mr. Folsom?”
“Nothing but what I expected. The demon of the sea has me in his gripe.”
“Can I do anything for you?”
“Nothing at present, Joe. What art can minister to a stomach diseased? I must wait patiently, and it will wear off. Don’t you feel any of the symptoms?”
“Oh, no—I feel bully,” said Joe. “I’ve got a capital appetite.”
“I hope you will be spared. It would be dismal for both of us to be groaning with seasickness.”
“Shall I stay with you?”
“No—go on deck. That is the best way to keep well. My sickness won’t last more than a day or two.”
The young man’s expectations were realized. After forty-eight hours he recovered from his temporary indisposition and reappeared on deck.