him. He's a good bosun. He knows his business, and he saves me a lot of
trouble."

And what the captain did not say, but what Noyes imagined he saw in his
eye, was: "And I'll be telling you pretty soon to keep to yourself your
opinion of ship's matters."

When Noyes went to his room that night, it was for a stay of two days.
More than a year now since he had been to sea, and the weather passing
Hatteras had been bad. But now it was the fourth day out, and Hatteras
was far astern, and the ship was plunging easily southward, with the
white sandy shore of Florida abeam. A fine, fair day it was, with the
Caribbean breeze pouring in through the air-port. The passenger shaved
and washed and got into his clothes. Above him he could hear the captain
dressing down somebody. He stepped out on deck.

It was two sailors who had complained of the grub, and he had made short
work of their complaint. "I'll give you what grub I please. And that's
good grub." That and more, and drove the two sailors, with their
dinners on their tin mess-plates, down to the deck.

Noyes, who remembered that the company allowed fifty cents a day per man
for grub, took a look and a whiff of the protested rations as the men
went by. "Phew!" He ascended to the bridge. The captain turned to him.
"Did you see those two? Complaining of the grub, mind you. What do they
know of grub? In the hovels they came from they never saw good grub."

Noyes made no answer. He was interested just then in the pump-man, who
now came strolling along and presently overtook the protesting sailors.
The better to observe proceedings, Noyes took his station on the chart