"Snuffling noise?" repeated the horror-struck mate.
"Yes; you've got an unpleasant habit of snuffling," said the doctor; "it worries me sometimes, I meant to speak to you about it before. You mustn't do it here. If you want to snuffle, go and snuffle on deck."
The frenzied outburst of the mate was interrupted by the skipper. "Don't make that noise in my cabin, Mr. Mackenzie," he said, severely.
Both mates withdrew in dudgeon, and Carson, after arranging the sufferer's bedclothes, quitted the cabin and sought his friend. Mr. Thomson was at first incredulous, but his eyes glistened brightly at the sight of the half-sovereign.
"Better hide it," he said, apprehensively; "the skipper 'll have it back when he gets well; it's the only coin we've got."
"He won't get well," said Dr. Carson, easily; "not till we get to Hong- kong, that is."
"What's the matter with him?" whispered the solicitor.
The doctor, evading his eye, pulled a long face and shook his head. "It may be the cooking," he said, slowly. "I'm not a good cook, I admit. It might be something got into the food from the medicine-chest. I shouldn't be at all surprised if the mates are taken bad too."
And indeed at that very moment the boy came rushing to the galley again, bawling out that Mr. Mackenzie was lying flat on his stomach in his bunk, punching the air with his fists and rending it with his language. The second officer appeared on deck as he finished his tale, and glancing forward, called out loudly for the cook.
"You're wanted, Frank," said the solicitor.