“Two hours, certainly, perhaps three.”
“Good! Will you carry a message for me, Phil?” the skipper asked suddenly, turning to the boy.
“I’m here, sir,” hurriedly announced the second mate, his tone and manner showing his resentment that the duty of bearing important communications should be entrusted to a landlubber.
“I know it, Hansen, and I want you to stay here,” returned the captain, testily. “How about it, Phil?”
“Surely, Captain Perkins,” replied the boy.
“Then go to the bridge and tell Mr. Adams, the first mate, to slow down until he barely has steerage way, then to turn the wheel over to the wheelsman and join me here. Understand?” The boy was part-way up the ladder by the time the instructions were finished, and he never stopped in his ascent as he called back his “Yes, sir.”
Smiling at the excited eagerness of the young passenger, the skipper turned to the chief engineer.
“Mr. Morris, have your assistant go above to the engine room and keep his eye on Swanson,” he instructed.
“I’ll go myself, sir.”
“No, I want you here.”