"But, now tell me—who put me on board this ship?" asked Gerald.
"Who put you on board? why, your friend, Mr. Morton."
"My friend? Why, I don't know the man!"
Bowden smiled, and showed that he was not convinced.
"What was this fellow Morton like?" inquired Durrant eagerly. "Describe him to me."
"Oh! a rather tall, lean, herring-gutted chap, with a baldish head, and narrow little eyes," was the reply. "But you can't tell me that you don't know him. Why, you were with him when I promised to take you on this trip."
"With him!" echoed Gerald. "I certainly was not."
"Ah! The worst of you, Mr. Simpson, is that you're so forgetful," exclaimed the breezy captain.
"I'm not forgetful!" cried Durrant resentfully, rising to his feet again, and steadying himself from the slow roll of the ship. "How did you come to know this mysterious friend of mine—Morton, you say is his name?"
"That's my affair! You don't believe me, so why should I bother to answer your questions?"