“What’s the matter with you?” inquired the doctor.

Jenkins then explained how he had been suddenly taken very ill during the night, and was afraid he was going to die.  The doctor, who knew in a moment that it was the effect of the medicine contained in the pie, exclaimed: 

“Why, you’re just the man Mr. Blinks has been wanting to see for the last week.  Orderly, ask Mr. Blinks if he will have the kindness to come here a moment.”

The orderly disappeared, and Jenkins stood, looking the very picture of despair, too sick to know or care what was going on.

“Mr. Blinks, I’ve found your man,” said the doctor, when the paymaster’s steward made his appearance.

“Well, my fine fellow,” said Blinks, turning to the mate, and smiling grimly, “how do you feel by this time?  Very pleasant morning, isn’t it!  I knew I’d catch you, you scoundrel,” he exclaimed, suddenly changing his tune; “I’ll teach you to steal my pies!”

“I—­I—­don’t know what you mean, sir!” said the mate, in surprise.

“Don’t talk to me, you villain,” said Blinks savagely; “didn’t you eat a pie last night?”

“Yes, sir,” answered Jenkins, hesitatingly, “but”—­

“I knew you did, you rascal.”

“But the pie was given to me, sir,” said the mate.

“Oh, that story won’t do at all.  I’ll fix you.  Go below.”

In a short, time the mate, who was so weak that he was scarcely able to stand alone, was summoned before the captain, who gave him a severe reprimand, and disrated him.  He came down on deck, looking very forlorn indeed; and as he passed by Simpson, who, with Frank and Archie, was standing in the starboard gangway, the former exclaimed: 

“That’s what I call squaring the yards; I’m even with him now.”

As soon as Jenkins had recovered from the effects of the physic, he began to make efforts to find Jack Smith.  One day he approached Simpson who was seated on a coil of rope, spinning one of his forecastle yarns to Frank and Archie, and said: 

“Shipmate, do you know any one aboard here named Jack Smith?”

“No,” answered Simpson, with the utmost gravity, “I don’t know any one who goes by that name.”

“Well, there is a chap here by that name,” said Jenkins, “and I wish I could find him.  He got me into a bad scrape.”

But, it is needless to say, he never found Jack Smith.

CHAPTER IV.

A Midnight Alarm.

On the afternoon of the following day, as Frank and his cousin were walking up and down the deck, talking over old times, Simpson hurriedly approached them, exclaiming,

“Boys, do you want to leave this ship?”

“Yes,” answered Frank; “we’re tired of staying here.”

“Well, it’s all right, then.  I volunteered to go, and I had both your names put down.  The executive officer says if you want to go, just get your donnage and go for’ard.”