etter run and fetch Mr--Mr--what's the doctor's name?"

"We never heard his name," moaned my messmate; "fetch him. I knew how
it would be. It's a shame to poison officers with bad preserved meat."

"But I ate a lot of it," I said, as I triumphantly finished fastening my
second brace.

"Ah, you'll have it directly. Oh dear, oh dear! I am so bad--why did I
ever come to sea?"

Slosh--whish--bang!

A wave had struck the ship, and we could hear the water flying over us,
as, after a tremendous effort to keep on my legs, I came down, sitting
on my sea-chest; and then, instead of springing up again, I sat rolling
from side to side, laughing silently and trying hard to master the
intense desire to break forth into a tremendous roar.

Walters did not see it for a few moments, but kept on bemoaning his
condition.

"I'll complain to the owners myself, if the captain doesn't take it up.
It's too bad. Oh, do make haste--the doctor--the doctor--I'm dying."
Then with a good deal of energy he cried, "Why, you're laughing."

"Of course I am," I said, giving way now to my mirth. "Why, you're only
a bit sea-sick."

"I'm not," he snapped out; "I'm poisoned by that bad meat we had. Oh,
the doctor, the doctor!"

"You're not," I said. "It's only sea-sickness. Why, I should have
thought you could stand it."

"Oh, help--help!"

"Hush, don't make that noise!" I cried.

"Then fetch the doctor, oh, pray, pray!"

I hesitated no longer, but hurried out, and one of the first I
encountered on deck was the bluff-looking sailor, whom my companion had
snubbed.

"Look here," I cried quickly, "Mr Walters is very ill. Where's the
doctor's cabin?"

Just then the ship made a lurch, and so did I, but by giving a kind of
hop and jump and getting my legs apart, I preserved my balance.

"Well done, youngster," cried the man. "You've been at sea before."

"Yes, often," I replied, "but where's the doctor?"

"I'll show you, sir. Number three's his cabin. Next but two to the
skipper's. But your messmate's only got the Channel chump, has he?"

"I think he's only sea-sick, but he says it was the meat last night."

"Clck!"

It was a curious sound that one cannot spell any nearer, partly laugh,
partly cry of derision.

"That's what they all says, sir," he continued. "Sea-sick, sure as my
name's Bob Hampton." As he spoke he had descended with me, and ended by
pointing out number three.

"There you are, sir; two rollers at ni