He sniffed down the forecastle hatch, sniffed into the galley where two Chinese cooks jabbered unintelligibly to him, sniffed down the cabin companionway, sniffed down the engine-room skylight and for the first time knew gasoline and engine oil; but sniff as he would, wherever he ran, no scent did he catch of Skipper.
Aft, at the wheel, he would have sat down and howled his heartbreak of disappointment, had not a white-god, evidently of command, in gold-decorated white duck cap and uniform, spoken to him.

Instantly, always a gentleman, Jerry smiled with flattened ears of courtesy, wagged his tail, and approached.

The hand of this high god had almost caressed his head when the woman's voice came down the deck in speech that Jerry did not understand.

The words and terms of it were beyond him.

But he sensed power of command in it, which was verified by the quick withdrawal of the hand of the god in white and gold who had almost caressed him.
This god, stiffened electrically and pointed Jerry along the deck, and, with mouth encouragements and urgings the import of which Jerry could only guess, directed him toward the one who so commanded by saying: "Send him, please, along to me, Captain Winters." Jerry wriggled his body in delight of obeying, and would loyally have presented his head to her outreaching caress of hand, had not the strangeness and difference of her deterred him.