As Charlie entered, the skipper glanced at his watch hanging on a nail at the side of his bunk; but, finding that he could not abuse him on the ground of being late, he contented himself with scowling. But, a few moments later, he pretended that he had a real cause for complaint.
When Charlie returned with the next course the skipper said, sharply: 'Look here, young fellow, don't you be so generous with other people's things. There is enough meat for two men here. I'll eat it this time, but remember I won't have any waste on this trawler. I know exactly what provisions you have, and if they go too quickly, I shall give you in charge for robbery. So just you be careful.'
Charlie had not given the skipper a very big allowance of food, and was naturally surprised at the reprimand which he had received. Had he known that the skipper had a private stock of provisions, kept under lock and key in his cabin, he would not have been surprised at his small appetite.
'Can I bring you anything more, Sir?' Charlie asked.
'No,' the skipper replied, 'and don't you come bothering for these things until after two o'clock.'
That order was given so that Charlie should not return until he had removed all traces of his private provisions.
Glad to have finished for a time with the skipper, Charlie, with the aid of the ship's boy, carried the men's food to the foc's'le. There was no mock-turtle soup for them, but simply tinned meat, boiled and floating in brown liquid.
The crew of the Sparrow-hawk were a brutal, low-minded set of men, and their conversation sickened Charlie even more than the discomfort of his life; so, after swallowing a few mouthfuls of the food, he went on deck, and, going aft, sat down on a coil of rope to think.
When he had been there about ten minutes Ping Wang joined him.
'This is the first time you have been to sea on a trawler,' the Chinaman declared as he sat down beside him.