Richter dropped back on the bunk and closed his lashless eyes.
“Suppose a man, a stowaway, had crawled through th’ aft man-hole, an’ died inside th’ boiler? Would that make it foam—make th’ soapy substance?”
“When could any stowaway do that?”
Richter framed his answer craftily: “Say it was done when th’ Seriphus was at Oakland that time th’ boilers were repaired in dry-dock.”
Fergerson drew on his memory. “Th’ time, mon, ye went aboard an’ tested th’ spare boiler? Th’ occasion when ye took th’ trouble to rig up a shore-hose in order to fill th’ boiler wi’ water?”
“Yes.”
“Did ye ha’ a man-hole plate off th’ boiler?”
“I removed th’ after-end plate, then went for th’ hose. We had no steam up, you remember, and our feed-pumps are motor-driven.”
“Ye think a mon might ha’ crawled through to th’ boiler during your absence?”
“Yes!”