inspike," repeated the commander, at once
understanding the joke.

"Yes, sir."

"I'm sorry," was the answer, gravely given, "but I lost it
overboard a while ago. You'd better go to Mr. Carr and ask him for
the scuttle-butt. That will do as well."

"Yes, sir," replied Bob, who, not suspecting anything, hunted up
the first mate and made his request.

"You'll find it right over there," said Mr. Carr, pointing to a big
water barrel on deck. It was one from which the sailors drank.
"If it's too heavy for you, you'd better get help," said Mr. Carr,
trying not to smile. But Bob was aware now that he had been made
the butt of a joke, and though he felt a little embarrassed, he had
to laugh in spite of himself.

"That's pretty good," he said. "A left-handed marlinspike turns
into a scuttle-butt, and that turns into a water barrel. I've got
lots to learn yet."

He could hear the sailors laughing at the trick they had played,
with the consent of the first mate, and with a grim smile Bob
resolved to get even.

CHAPTER XIII

BOB TRIES A PRANK

The _Eagle_ was sailing along under a spanking breeze, and already
the motion of Old Briny was beginning to make itself felt. The
vessel rolled to a considerable degree, and as she passed farther
and farther out to sea this became more pronounced.

Bob, who had been active in visiting different parts of the ship,
watching the sailors at their duties, and picking up bits of
information here and there, soon got over his little indignation
against those who had played the joke on him. But he soon became
conscious of another feeling.

This was a decidedly uneasy one, and for the first time since he
had begun to think of the voyage Bob began to fear he was going to
be seasick.

"I certainly do feel queer," said our hero to himself as he leaned
against the railing amidships. "I wonder what I'd better do?
Perhaps I'm moving around too much. I'll keep quiet."

He sat down on a hatch cover and tried to think of other things.
The sea was beginning to turn blue--the blue of deep water--and the
sun was shining brightly. There was a strong wind and a healthful
smell of salt in the air.

Still Bob did not appear to care for any of those things. His own
feelings seemed to increase.

"Sitting still is worse than moving around," he began to think.

Just then Mr. Carr passed the boy.

"What's the matter?" he asked. "You look rather white about the
gills, messmate."