leep
if you can."

By reason of Jimmie I reached the dinner table as the soup was being
removed. Only four of us messed in the cabin. Mott, the engineers, and
Morgan had a separate table of their own aft.

"Late already, my boy. This won't do. Ship's discipline, you know. Make
a report and clear yourself," Blythe called out as I entered.

"My patient seems a bit better," I announced, sitting down opposite Miss
Wallace.

"Your patient?" that young woman repeated.

"Yes, I find I have a guest to share my cabin with me, and he has begun
by yielding to an attack of _mal-de-mer_."

"Is this a conundrum? I'm not good at them." This from Miss Berry.

"No, it's a stowaway. The conundrum is to know what to do with the
little rascal."

"Meaning who?"

"James A. Garfield Welch. I found him tucked away in my berth, very much
the worse for wear."

The Englishman helped himself to asparagus tips and laughed.

"He's certainly a persevering young beggar. He hung around me for three
days trying to persuade me to take him. Now he's here on French leave."

"He'll have to make himself useful, now he's here. The little idiot
imagines himself a sort of boy pirate, so he explained to me. I'm going
to try to introduce a little sense into his system by means of a strap
applied to the cuticle."

"Oh, I wouldn't," Evelyn begged quickly. "Poor fellow! I daresay he
wanted to come as badly as we did."

"He happens to have a mother," I added dryly. "She's no doubt worrying
her life out about the young pirate. I really think we owe him a licking
on her account."

"Poor woman! She must be feeling dreadfully. Isn't there any way of
letting her know that he is safe?" Miss Berry asked.

"We'll have to call in at San Pedro, though that means the loss of a
day. We can send the youngster home from Los Angeles," Blythe suggested.

"If his mother is willing, Jimmie might go on with us. He would be
useful to run errands," Evelyn proposed.

"Jimmie has a staunch friend in you, Miss Wallace. We'll think it over.
There's plenty of time before we reach Los Angeles," our captain
answered. "He can take the upper berth in the cook's cabin. Have him
moved after dinner, Morgan."

We lingered after dinner till the second dog watch was over, when Blythe
excused himself to go on deck. I soon followed him, for though I am no
sailor I was rated as second officer on the _Argos_, Mott being the
first.

I had not yet had a good view of the crew and I