a man's ill?'

[Illustration: W. W. Jacobs]

"The fust mate growled something, and went on deck, and the skipper
started examining of 'em again. He said they was wonderfully patient
lying in bed so long, an' he had 'em wrapped up in bed clo'es and
carried on deck, so as the pure air could have a go at 'em.

"We had to do the carrying, an' there they sat, breathing the pure air,
and looking at the fust mate out of the corners of their eyes. If they
wanted any thing from below, one of us had to go an' fetch it, an' by
the time they was taken down to bed again, we all resolved to be took
ill too.

"Only two of 'em did it though, for Harry, who was a powerful,
ugly-tempered chap, swore he'd do all sorts o' dreadful things to us if
we didn't keep well and hearty, an' all 'cept these two did. One of
'em, Mike Rafferty, laid up with a swelling on his ribs, which I knew
myself he 'ad 'ad for fifteen years, and the other chap had paralysis.
I never saw a man so reely happy as the skipper was. He was up an'
down with his medicines and his instruments all day long, and used to
make notes of the cases in a big pocketbook, and read 'em to the second
mate at meal-times.

"The foc'sle had been turned into hospital about a week, an' I was on
deck doing some odd job or the other, when the cook comes up to me
pulling a face as long as a fiddle.

"'Nother invalid,' ses he; 'fust mate's gone stark, staring mad!'

"'Mad?' ses I.

"'Yes,' ses he. 'He's got a big basin in the galley, an' he's laughing
like a hyener an' mixing bilge-water an' ink, an' paraffin an' butter
an' soap an' all sorts o' things up together. The smell's enough to
kill a man; I've had to come away.'

"Curious-like, I jest walked up to the galley an' puts my 'ed in, an'
there was the mate as the cook said, smiling all over his face, and
ladling some thick sticky stuff into a stone bottle.

"'How's the pore sufferers, sir?" ses he, stepping out of the galley
jest as the skipper was going by.

"'They're very bad; but I hope for the best,' ses the skipper, looking
at him hard. 'I'm glad to see you're turned a bit more feeling.'

"'Yes, sir,' ses the mate. 'I didn't think so at fust, but I can see
now them chaps is all very ill. You'll s'cuse me saying it, but I
don't quite approve of your treatment.'

"I thought the skipper would ha' bust.

"'My treatment?' ses he. 'My treatment? What do you know about it?'

"'You're treating 'em wrong, sir,'