This time a heave of the ship sent him even more quickly to the deck, and he landed with a bump that could have been heard in the cabin.

He was fighting mad when he again scrambled to his feet.
"I can lick the lubber who threw me out," he shouted.
"Stop that talking," came from the master-at-arms' corner.

"Turn in and keep quiet about the decks." Potter grumbled something under his breath, then he made a careful search in the vicinity of his hammock.

It was worth a dollar admission to see him poke about with, the end of a broom.

He found nothing suspicious, and proceeded to try again.