"What the dickens ails you? Why can't you finish that yarn?"
Mr. Carr whipped round and shouted with a noble impulse:
"I ain't goin' to lie again, so help me. The captain's been laborin' with my poor sin-streaked soul, and I passed the word to steer by his sailin' chart. I've suffered enough without bein' keel-hauled any more about it."
"Beg pardon," smiled Valentine. "Now I see the joke. The good old man and the wandering boy. How nice of him. Perhaps he will pray for me if I send up a card. Is he often taken that way?"
"Pretty regular," grinned the mate as he made good his retreat.
"Was I right? Well, rather," thought Valentine. "It's time I took hold of things. If we should run into a storm, the old duffer would be on his knees praying for good weather and let the ship go to pot."
Later in the day a notice posted in the "social hall" caught his roving eye:
"To-morrow (Sunday) divine service will be held in the main saloon at ten
