"It's necessary, Carl," answered Dick, "to know all that takes place while we're on the brig. If our lights should attract any vessel that's passing, one of us ought to be on the alert to answer a hail."
"All righdt. I'll take der fairst vatch, und I vill call you py der chronomoder in der gaptain's room."
Dick had wound the chronometer and set it by guess. The timepiece might be off schedule by an hour or so, but it would serve for dividing the watches.
Leaving Carl by the galley, Dick climbed to the poop deck and went to the charthouse and turned in. Carl's mind was running on "spooks" a good deal, and the swish of water under the deck, and the grinding and thumping of the floating staves, kept his fears and his imagination working overtime.
However, nothing happened; and, after he had gone into the cabin seven or eight times and consulted the chronometer, he at last found it to be twelve o'clock and bounded up the poop-deck steps.
Dick had slept soundly, and when he went forward Carl crept into his warm blankets and was snoring almost as soon as his head was on the pillow.
It seemed to him that he had no more than closed his eyes before he was brought up in his bunk by a loud yell. It was daylight, and the sun was shining through the open door of the charthouse.
"Carl! Come out here!"
Carl leaped from the bunk and hurried out on the deck and to the broken monkey rail.
From the rail he could look down on the main deck and get a good view of Dick.