Whether or not the men did think over it, or exactly understood what the old man meant, I cannot say, but the next morning the carpenter came aft to the captain and said that he had had a dream which made him remember that the evening before Andrews’s sugar was found to have been stolen, Ben Grimes had borrowed an axe from him, on examining which afterwards he discovered that a small piece had been broken off on one side, and that Grimes acknowledged he had done it by striking a nail in a piece of wood he was chopping up. On hearing this the captain again summoned all hands aft, and ordered Andrews to bring his sugar cask. There in the head was found a piece of iron which exactly fitted the notch in the axe which the carpenter produced.
“Now, lads, say who stole Andrews’s sugar and concealed it in Pulley’s chest?” asked the skipper.
“Grimes! Grimes! No doubt about it!” shouted all the men, with the exception of the individual mentioned and one other.
“You are right, lads, and Pulley is innocent,” said the skipper.
“As the babe unborn,” answered the men, and they all, except Grimes and his chum, following my example, gave Jim a hearty shake of the hand.
I thought that he would have blubbered outright with pleasure. Though I was sure that Jim had never touched the sugar, I was thankful that the captain and the rest were convinced of his innocence.
Before noon that day a dark bank of clouds was seen coming up from the southward. In a short time several black masses broke away from the main body, and came careering across the sky.
“Away aloft and shorten sail,” cried the skipper. “Be smart, lads!”
We hurried up the rigging, for there was no time to be lost.
“Two reefs in the fore-topsail! Furl the main-topsail! Let fly topgallant sheets!”