And it was partly on account of this wager that Sailor Ben refrained from capturing me when he might have done so at the start.
Now, as the fare to and from Boston, with the lodging expenses, would cost him at least five dollars, I didn't see what he gained by winning the wager.

The Admiral rubbed his nose violently when this view of the case presented itself.
I asked him why he didn't take me from the train at the first stopping-place and return to Rivermouth by the down train at 4.30.

He explained having purchased a ticket for Boston, he considered himself bound to the owners (the stockholders of the road) to fulfil his part of the contract! To use his own words, he had "shipped for the viage." This struck me as being so deliciously funny, that after I was in bed and the light was out, I couldn't help laughing aloud once or twice.

I suppose the Admiral must have thought I was meditating another escape, for he made periodical visits to my bed throughout the night, satisfying himself by kneading me all over that I hadn't evaporated.
I was all there the next morning, when Sailor Ben half awakened me by shouting merrily, "All hands on deck!" The words rang in my ears like a part of my own dream, for I was at that instant climbing up the side of the Rawlings to offer myself as cabin-boy.
The Admiral was obliged to shake me roughly two or three times before he could detach me from the dream.

I opened my eyes with effort, and stared stupidly round the room.