He handed three of them
to his cousin, and then crawled out again, and the galley was lowered to
its place. After stowing the pies safely away in their mess-chest, they
again sought their hammocks. The next morning, when the steward entered
the galley to prepare the usual lunch for Blinks, he was surprised, and a
good deal terrified, to find that some of the pies were missing. He
immediately went on deck, and reported it to Blinks, who furiously asked:
"Where have they gone to, you rascal?"
"I don't know, sir, I'm sure," answered the steward, while visions of
double-irons danced before his eyes. "There were eight pies in the galley
when I locked it up last night."
"I don't believe it, you scoundrel. You sold the pies, and think that, by
telling me they are missing, you can make me believe that they were
stolen."
"I have never done any thing of the kind since I have been your steward,
Mr. Blinks," said the man, with some spirit. "I have always been as
careful of your interests as I would be of my own. Did you ever detect me
in a mean or a dishonest act?"
"No; but I have often caught the cook stealing things.
Pages:
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38