"But how do you know she's a steamer? Mightn't she be a sailing vessel!"
"Not with that white light at her foremast head. Sailing vessels aren't allowed to show any above their side lights. Now go below and eat your supper while I take her."
This eating alone was such an unpleasant feature of the cruise that, as Cabot sat down to his solitary meal, he regretted having persuaded White to leave David Gidge behind.
"I am afraid this going to sea shorthanded will prove a false economy after all," he said to himself, thereby reaching a conclusion that has been forced upon seafaring men since ships first sailed the ocean.
Finishing his supper as quickly as possible, Cabot rejoined his companion, and begged him also to hurry that they might bear each other company on deck.
"All right," agreed White, "only, of course, I shall be longer than you were, for I have to wash and put away the dishes."
"Oh, bother the dishes!" exclaimed Cabot "Let them go till morning."
"Not much. We haven't any too many dishes as it is, nor a chance of getting any more, and if I should leave them where they are we probably wouldn't have any by morning. Besides, it wouldn't be tidy, and an untidy ship is worse than an untidy house, because you can't get away from it. But I won't be long."
True to his promise, White, bringing with him a heavy oilskin coat and an armful of blankets, speedily rejoined his comrade, who was by this time shivering in the chill night air.
"Put this on," said the young skipper, tendering Cabot the oilskin, "and then I am going to ask you to stand first watch. I will roll up in these blankets and sleep here on deck, so that you can get me up at a moment's notice. You want to wake me at midnight, anyhow, when I will take the morning watch."