“If you will tell me who your friends are—”
“I have no friends, sir.”
“You lived on shore, or sailed on the sea, with somebody, I suppose.”
Ole looked down, and did not deny the proposition.
“Now, if you will tell me whom you lived with, I may be able to do something for you.”
Still the waif was silent.
“Berth No. 72 in the steerage is vacant, and I will give it to you, if I can be sure it is right for me to do so.”
But Ole could not, or would not, give any information on this point, though he was earnest in his desire to remain in the ship.
“Very well, Ole; as you will not tell me your story, I shall be obliged to leave you on shore at Christiansand,” said the principal, as he walked away.
Dr. Winstock also tried to induce the youth to reveal what he plainly regarded as a secret, but with no different result. Ole passed from the officers to the crew again, and with the latter his answers were like those given to Sanford and his companions. He invented strange explanations, and told wild stories, but not a soul on board was the wiser for anything he said. The waif was permitted to occupy berth No. 72, but was distinctly assured that he must leave the ship when she arrived at Christiansand.