I followed the mate into the fore-peak. Having first demanded the keys from the owners of those which were locked, he examined chest after chest, making me hold up the lids while he turned out the contents or plunged his hands to the bottom. No sugar was found in any of them. He then came to my chest, which I knew was not locked, and the idea came into my head that the stolen property would be there. I showed some anxiety, I suspect, as I lifted up the lid. The mate put in his hands with a careless air, as if he had no idea of the sort. Greatly to my relief he found nothing. There was but one chest to be examined. It was Jim’s.
Scarcely had I opened it when the mate, throwing off a jacket spread over the top, uttered an exclamation of surprise. There exposed to view was a large wooden bowl, procured the day before by the steward for washing up glasses and cups, and supposed to have fallen overboard, cram full of sugar.
“Bring it along aft,” cried the mate. “I did not think that of Pulley.”
“And I don’t think it now, sir,” I answered, in a confident tone, as I obeyed his order.
“What’s this? Where was it found?” inquired the captain, as we reached the quarter-deck.
The mate told him.
“I’ll swear Jim never put it there, sir; not he!” I exclaimed.
“Swear not at all, my son, albeit thou mayest be right,” said the captain. “Send James Pulley aft.”
Jim quickly came.
“Hast thou, James Pulley, been guilty of stealing thy shipmate’s sugar?” asked the captain.