"Unless you are able to squint, you didn't look at my wrists at all,"
she exclaimed. A gong pealed loudly from the cabin, and she ran off.
Dick made for the chart-room, in front of which Tagg was leaning on the
rail and gazing ahead.
"You've bin quick," said the chief. "'Keep her steady as she goes,
South-40-East, until the ole raw comes on deck. If the wind drops, call
'im."
Then Dick remembered that Tagg had bidden him have his breakfast before
he came on duty. Royson said nothing, but took his station on the
bridge. Tagg, being lame, preferred to swing himself to the main deck,
whence he hopped into the small cabin where the officers ate their
meals. He came back instantly.
"Wot's the game?" he inquired sympathetically.
"You've eaten nothin'. Feelin' bad?"
"No. Oh, no," Royson laughed and reddened.
"Then wot's wrong? Didn't you fancy the corfee an' bacon, after the
high livin' ashore?"
"The fact is, I met Miss Fenshawe, and she detained me a few minutes."
"Is that any reason why you shouldn't eat?"
"None whatever.
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