Read the sign up there--NO SMOKING ABAFT THE WHEEL!" It was Captain Duncan, chief of the expedition.

I went forward, of course.

I saw a long spyglass lying on a desk in one of the upper-deck state-rooms back of the pilot-house and reached after it--there was a ship in the distance.
"Ah, ah--hands off! Come out of that!" I came out of that.

I said to a deck-sweep--but in a low voice: "Who is that overgrown pirate with the whiskers and the discordant voice ?" "It's Captain Bursley--executive officer--sailing master." I loitered about awhile, and then, for want of something better to do, fell to carving a railing with my knife.

Somebody said, in an insinuating, admonitory voice: "Now, say--my friend--don't you know any better than to be whittling the ship all to pieces that way?
You ought to know better than that." I went back and found the deck sweep.
"Who is that smooth-faced, animated outrage yonder in the fine clothes ?" "That's Captain L****, the owner of the ship--he's one of the main bosses." In the course of time I brought up on the starboard side of the pilot-house and found a sextant lying on a bench.