"Fishing? I thought you said he was in a whaling vessel?"
"Well, so I did, my hearty. We calls whales fishes. When we speak of taking a whale we always says taking a fish."
"Ah, excuse me. I didn't understand. And where is your friend now?"
At this moment one of the old sailors called him aside and said to him in an undertone:
"Mind your eye, Billy. I've been a listenin' to you and that lubber that doesn't know a whale's a fish, and it looks squally to me. As I make him out, he's been a leadin' you on to talk about Dorn Hackett, and maybe it ain't for Dorn's good he means it."
"If I thought he meant the boy any harm he'd get his nose rove foul in the shake of a fluke."
"Well, just keep your weather eye skinned on him."
"But, shipmate, it's as good as saying that Dorn may be in some sort of a scrape to be afraid to talk about him."
"And so he may; and small blame to him, either, bein' a likely young fellow as he is. Shore is a mighty dangersome place for a good-looking young fellow like him."
"Right you are, shipmate," assented Billy, solemnly shaking hands before returning to his conversation with the stranger. From that time he did watch carefully; and having a little natural cunning of his own, managed to evade the numerous and artfully-put inquiries with which he was plied, and still to draw the stranger on, with hope of information, until he satisfied himself that his comrade's warning was not uncalled for.