"Oh, I see; you are disappointed because I have given you no medicine. Why, Steve, you are as bad as the poor people who come to a dispensary. They are not happy unless they have a box of pills and a bottle of medicine. I'll mix you up something." "No, no! don't, sir, please," cried Steve. "I am very much better now; I am, indeed." "Very well, then; lie down there for an hour or two, till the sickness produced by the shock has gone off." "Oh no, sir. I needn't do that, need I?" "Well, then, come on deck." Steve rose from the locker, winced, and subsided again. "I think I will lie for a little while." The doctor nodded and left him in the cabin, where he lay back for about ten minutes listening to the thumping about on deck, where the men were evidently busy making more preparations for the adventurous cruise. His shoulder ached, and there was a peculiar strained feeling about the muscles of his chest; but this did not trouble him so much as the strained sensation in his mind. For, as he lay back there, he began to think about what they were saying respecting him on deck. The doctor would have told Captain Marsham how he was, Mr Lowe would hear it, and then it would go to the men from the engineer and the four Norwegians downward. "And they'll think I've no more pluck than a girl," he thought at last; "just when I want to show that I am ready to take my part in anything. Why, if I'm ready to be upset like this, I shall be left on board when they are going on expeditions fishing, shooting, or hunting, and--Oh! this won't do." And to prove that it would not do he jumped up, walked up and down the cabin twice,--a very short journey, by the way,--found that it did not hurt him more than lying still on the locker, and then went on deck. CHAPTER FIVE. REVENGE BY DEPUTY. "Better, Steve?" said the captain, giving him a friendly nod; and without waiting for his answer, he went forward to where the engineer, who had nothing to do, was talking to the mate, and then they all went below into the engine-room. One of the Norway men was at the wheel, the other sailors were in the forecastle, and there was no one to talk to; so Steve went forward, and was nearly abreast of the galley when Watty Links, the shock-headed boy, came out bearing a bucket of potato peelings and refuse, looking sour and sore, but as soon as he caught sight of Steve his face expanded into a broad grin, and, evidently in a high state of delight, he trotted to the side, turned the contents of the bucket overboard, and ran back into the galley, keeping his head averted as if to hide his mirth. The blood flushed up into Steve's cheeks, and he turned away, walking aft to watch the grey gulls which seemed to have arrived all at once, and were flying about in quite a crowd, making darts down to the surface to seize some fragment that was floating, amidst querulous screaming and the beating of wings.