“Damned if I know,” said Bill savagely.
“He don’t really think you’re ghosts?” suggested the cook feebly.
“O’ course not,” said Bill scornfully. “He’s got some little game on. Well, I’m going to my bunk. You’d better come too, Tommy. We’ll find out what it all means to-morrer, I’ve no doubt.”
On the morrow they received a little enlightenment, for after breakfast the cook came forward nervously to break the news that meat and vegetables had only been served out for three. Consternation fell upon all.
“I’ll go an’ see ’im,” said Bill ravenously.
He found the skipper laughing heartily over something with the mate. At the seaman’s approach he stepped back and eyed him coolly.
“Mornin’, sir,” said Bill, shuffling up. “We’d like to know, sir, me an’ Tommy, whether we can have our rations for dinner served out now same as before?”
“Dinner?” said the skipper in surprise. “What do you want dinner for?”
“Eat,” said Bill, eyeing him reproachfully.
“Eat?” said the skipper. “What’s the good o’ giving dinner to a ghost? Why you’ve got nowhere to put it.”