“I beg pardon!” I hastened to say, as I followed the Jap who had popped into sight at the sound of a buzzer.
But before I gained the stateroom assigned me, and had closed the door, I heard Stroth ask Stevens:
“How’s the wind blowing?”
“There’s a point or two more no’th’ard to it, but it holds about the same strength, and, of course, it’s fair.”
“Fine!” ejaculated the owner. “So we ought to be about off Montauk to-morrow morning, oughtn’t we?[Pg 43]”
“About that,” replied the skipper. Then he lowered his tone just as I was closing my door in dismissal of the Jap. I couldn’t catch a word, but the voice carried solicitude of some sort.
Then came Stroth’s reply; rather a petulant one, I thought:
“Yes, yes, Stevens; I promise. Yes, yes, of course!”
There was certainly a difference in my quarters of this night and the one previous; for that little stateroom, though plain enough, was the essence of convenience, and the berth was comfort itself.
But, tired as I was, I couldn’t get to sleep right away. Things had been happening a trifle too fast, and one or two points were puzzling. I sat on a transom fully an hour. Then I crawled into the suit of pajamas that had been laid out for me, propped up the pillows at the bunk end, and ruminated.