The Voyage of the Norman D.
I didn't even hear any voices from the cabin or fo'c'sle. But I determined to stick it out until I knew. The silence was positively terrifying. I could only judge that the captain had gone off to Boston (as he had warned us he might), and that all the rest of the crew were ashore. Yet, I thought, someone ought to be aboard; the ship wouldn't be likely to be left all alone. With this in my mind, I raised a small hail—"Yoo-hoo!"—and, to my delight, someone appeared in the door of the fo'c'sle. Two or three others were behind him, looking curious and rather startled.
I put a very bold and saucy face upon the matter. "Look here," said I, "I'm the kid who was here a couple o' days ago, and the captain was coming out to lunch with us today, so I came down to get him. Is he aboard?"
There were many answers to this question. "The captain's ashore." "I think he's gone to Boston." "No, no," from the cook, "the captain's aft. He ain't gone to Boston."
I thought I had better cover up the toploftiness with which I had started, and I was very pleasant and friendly for a bit. Then I said: "May I go aft and find the captain?" "Yes, indeed," they returned. Meanwhile I had slipped rather sure-footedly from the edge of the wharf to the top of the bulwarks, and leaped down upon the deck. (By this
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