“It may not work, but I guess it will. Anyhow it is my best card at present.”
Having arranged his dummy the lad stole on deck and then crawled aft to the cabin, and he did so without being seen. He was in his shirt and drawers only, and presented quite a ghostly appearance. He walked half down the companion way and glanced into the cabin. The captain lay asleep in a berth and the mate lay on the floor of the cabin—at least the man whom our hero took for the mate, and the fellow for whom he had laid away a little revenge memory.
It was quite a risky position for the boy. If the night had been an absolutely clear one he would have had a chance to learn how far they were off shore, and then he might have decided to take a chance to steal the yawl and row or paddle ashore. But owing to the rain he could not see to the shore, and determined to work another scheme. He crawled around to the side of the cabin projection near the poop window and fortunately found a roll of canvas.
“This is fine,” he muttered, and in a little time he was hidden under the canvas and then soliloquized:
“Here we are, and here goes.”
The mate lay on the floor and the captain in his berth, and suddenly the mate started up. He looked around wildly a moment, and then rising to his feet approached the berth where the captain lay, and shook him.
“What in thunder is the matter?” demanded the captain springing to a sitting position.
“Were you dreaming, captain?”
“Dreaming? No, what’s the matter with you? I was sleeping like an infant.”
“You were groaning hard, captain.”