“Both, and a cup of coffee, please.”
“Well, sir, I’m afraid there’s no coffee, sir; but I could make you a pot of tea in a moment, sir.”
“All right, and bring them to my room, please?”
“Yessir.”
In a very short time there was that faint steward rap at the state-room door and a most appetising tray-load was respectfully placed at my service.
When the waiter had gone I hurried up the companion-way with much the air of a man who is stealing fowls, and I found my stowaway just in the position I had left him.
“Now, pitch in,” I said. “I’ll stand guard forward here, and, if you hear me cough, strike for cover. I’ll explain the tray matter if it’s found.”
He simply said, “Thank you, sir,” and I went forward. When I came back the tray had been swept clean and the teapot emptied. My stowaway was making for his den when I said, “How about to-morrow?”
He answered, “This’ll do me for a couple of days.”
“Nonsense. I’ll have a square meal for you here in the corner of this wheel-house, so that you can get at it without trouble. I’ll leave it about this time to-morrow night.”