As Captain Jack ate the warm food he felt his strength coming back to him.
“Poor old Hal has been up there in the conning tower all these hours,” muttered Captain Jack, uneasily. “He must have that cramped feeling in his hands.”
“Humph!” retorted Eph. “Not so you could notice it much, I guess. It's a simpleton's job up in the conning tower to-day. All he has to do is to shift the wheel a little to port, or to starboard, just so as to keep the proper interval from the 'Dad' boat. Besides, I've been up there on relief, for an hour while you slept, and Hal came down and sat with the engines. Cheer up, Jack. No one misses you from the conning tower.”
Benson laughed, though he said, warningly:
“I reckon we'll do as well to drop calling the gunboat the 'Dad boat' instead of the 'parent vessel.'”
“Well, you needn't bother at all about the conning tower to-day,” wound up Eph, glancing at his watch. “It's after half-past three at this moment and I understand we're to drop anchor about five o'clock.”
So Skipper Jack settled back with a comfortable sigh. Truth to tell, it was pleasant not to [pg 068] have any immediate duty, for his head throbbed, every now and then, and he felt dizzy when he tried to walk.
“Who could have hit me in that fashion, last night, and for what earthly purpose?” wondered the boy. “I've had some enemies, in the past, but I don't know a single person about Dunhaven, now who has any reason for wishing me harm.”
Never a thought crossed his mind of suspecting Sam Truax. That worthy had come with a note from David Pollard, the inventor of the boats. Sam, therefore, must be all right, the boy reasoned.
Jack lay back on the upholstered seat. He sat with his eyes closed most of the time, though he did not doze. At last, however, he heard the engine room bell sound for reduced speed. Getting up, the young captain made his way to the foot of the conning tower stairs.