I slid down the rope, and tiptoed to the galley. I took that stack of pancakes from the plate and slipped them inside my shirt, against my breast. Then I climbed to the yardarm again. Whew! By Joe, those pancakes were hot! They were burning into my flesh. When I was halfway up the mast I thought I should fall down, but I kept saying over and over, "Phelax, you are a sailor now, and a sailor never winces." When I was aloft I laid the pancakes on the yard, and ate them as fast as I could. There were fourteen of those pancakes. Smutje was still whistling. "Ah, but just wait, you old sea cook, and see what kind of a beehive your heart is in a few minutes!" Two arms were thrust out of the galley, and very carefully, so the flapjacks might not slide off, the empty platter was lowered. Next a long shrill whistle and then a smothered cry: "My flap jacks!" Smutje came climbing to the roof of the galley, thinking that perhaps with the rolling of the ship the flapjacks had slid off the plate. Then he roared, cursing: "Damned pack of thieves." I called down from aloft. "Who is a thief, Smutje?' "Not you," he replied, "because you are working up there. But did you see anybody take my flapjacks?" "No, I haven't been looking that way, Smutje." I slid down to talk with him, still amazed at the phenomenon of encountering fresh, hot--very hot--flapjacks on the high seas. "What was that you were talking about, Smutje? Flapjacks, how can that be?" "I will tell you, Phelax. You are the only honest fellow aboard." "I know that, but go ahead." "It is the captain's birthday to-day, Phelax. Nobody aboard can make him a present except me. I fixed fourteen flapjacks for him. Is that too much for the captain's birthday?" "No, Smutje, it is not too much." "And a delicious cranberry jelly to go with them." "Cranberry jelly, Smutje?" "Yes; a fine cranberry compote. Now, by Joe, Phelax, you know I am a good fellow. I would say nothing if some son-of-a-gun stole one flapjack, but, by Joe, I say the one who took the whole fourteen is a son-of-a-gun, by Joe." "I agree with your opinion, Smutje, he is a son-of-a-gun, by Joe." "You are an honest fellow, Phelax, and I always give you the best. That cranberry compote is no use to me now, anyway. You can eat it because you are honest and because you will help me to find the thief." The compote was just what I needed, what I had missed. It should have been spread between the pancakes, but still it was going to the same place. "How can I catch the thief, Smutje?" "Watch to-night, and see who eats the least peas." "All right, Smutje, I will watch." "Be sure to catch him, Phelax, and now, because you are honest, here is the cranberry compote." It was delicious.