"You go up and stay around the wheel, 'till we come up," the captain ordered. "I thought you were there all the time or I'd been up myself, I don't want none of those fellows fooling around the compass."
When Chris had retired, still grumbling, Walter brought out a pad and pencil and handed them to the sailor who had been watching their faces closely during their animated debate.
The man seized them eagerly and bending over the pad began to draw slowly with awkward, clumsy fingers. When the sketch was finished he tore off the sheet of paper and handed it to Charley whom he seemed to recognize as the real leader of the little party.
The lad examined the sketch with eager interest. "He must be a very cheerful sort of fellow," he remarked, as he passed it to his chum. "First, he prophesies a fight with the crew, and, now, he has got us all shipwrecked. Can't say much for his skill with the pencil though; that hulk does not look much like our pretty 'Beauty'."
The rude sketch pictured a forlorn, dismasted wreck, covered with seaweed and with one side badly stove in.
The sailor had immediately commenced upon another picture which he soon passed over.
The boys looked it over but could not decide what it was intended to represent.
"It looks like a box full of crackers," Charley said with a grin. "Well, if he's decided to have us shipwrecked, it's thoughtful of him to provide us with something to eat."
But the sailor did not seem to regard it as any laughing matter. He watched their expressions with a face full of concern, and, when Walter shook his head to show that he did not understand the sketch, he laid aside the pad with a heavy sigh.
"He has given it up," Charley said. "We had better go to bed, I guess we have a hard day ahead of us to-morrow."