The dog
was struggling wildly to free himself.
"What's the matter with Rowdy?" questioned Tom wonderingly.
"I'll never tell you," Jack panted, "he's been trying to get down into
the cabin like all possessed ever since dinner was called. I've had my
own sweet time to keep him here."
"Maybe the poor tyke is getting hungry like the rest of us human
beings," ventured Tom. "Rowdy, are you hungry?" he asked.
Rowdy's reply was a glance from bloodshot eyes toward his friend, then
he launched himself against the door leading to the cabin emitting
growls that were unmistakably vicious.
"That's pretty near talking, Jack!" Tom stated.
With a knowing look Jack assented and pointing with his thumb toward the
newcomer's direction nodded his head once or twice. Securing a length of
small line Jack made Rowdy fast to a ring bolt in the pilot house floor
and then went into the cabin for his dinner.
He had no better success in his effort at conversation with the stranger
than his chums had met and shortly gave over trying to be pleasant.
Making a hurried meal he again hastened to the pilot house where he
assumed charge of the craft, for the fog was still thick.
Arnold in an effort to be friendly asked Carlos to inspect the Fortuna
from the interior, which offer was quickly accepted.
"Here," explained Arnold, standing near the bulkhead separating the
pilot house from the cabin, "is the forward part of the vessel. I
suppose you'd call it the forecastle, but we have the fuel tanks, chain
locker and lazarette here.
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