“So you’re tired of the old skipper already, are you?” laughed the captain.
Henry was a bit embarrassed. “No, indeed, I am not, Captain, but you see, I—I”
“Run along, lad, and enjoy yourself. The old skipper has eaten by himself too long to be worried about one more meal à la solitaire.” And he patted Henry gently on the shoulder. Henry was more than glad to be allowed to eat with the quartermaster. He liked him greatly, and, furthermore, the latter had offered to show him the forward part of the ship. Excepting for his hurried trip to the fireroom and back, when he had caught a glimpse of the interior of the Iroquois, Henry had as yet been nowhere below deck except in the captain’s cabin and in the wardroom. His visit to the Viking had made him curious to see just how the sailors on the Iroquois did live, anyway: and he knew he would see them in their true colors if he went with the quartermaster. There wouldn’t be any standing at attention, as might be the case if the captain was along. But before they could do any sightseeing, the two young men had to eat.
As they climbed down the steps to the mess room forward, Henry said to his companion: “I wonder why the captain prefers to live alone in his cabin. Of course it’s all right to be alone