"Is it rat poison?"
"No, it's a present from Sharp to the skipper."
Mac sat down; the blow was too much for him.
"A present from the office?" he said slowly. "You're certain it's not explosives?"
"She'll go down soon enough without any assistance of that kind," said the chief officer.
"Does he know about it?" and he pointed towards the captain's cabin.
"Oh, yes; he worked the oracle yesterday."
"He actually pumped some of the milk of human kindness into Sharp's wretched body?"
"That is so."
"Then I'll go and shake hands with him," said Mac, and went to the cabin. He stood looking at the skipper solemnly, and Job said—