“Stuffed, man,—­he was stuffed,” explained the captain.

“Stuffed or no; there he ware,” persisted Trunnell.  “He would ‘a’ been no bigger stuffed than alive.  ’Tain’t likely they could ‘a’ stretched his hide more’n a foot.”

The skipper gave the third mate a sly look, and his nose worked busily like a parrot’s beak for a few minutes.

“You believe lots o’ things, eh?” said he, while his nose worked and wrinkled in amusement.

“I believe in pretty much all I sees an’ some little I hears,” said Trunnell, dryly.

“’Specially in eliphints, eh?—­a hundred feet high?”

“But not in argufying over facts,” retorted Trunnell.  “No, sink me, when I finds I’m argufying agin the world,—­agin facts,—­I tries to give in some and let the world get the best o’ the argument.  I’ve opinions the same as you have, but when they don’t agree with the rest o’ the world, do I go snortin’ around a-tryin’ to show how the world is wrong an’ I am right?  Sink me if I do.  No, I tries to let the other fellow have a show.  I may be right, but if I sees the world is agin me, I—­”

“Right ye are, Trunnell.  Spoken O.K.” said the skipper.  “I like to see a man what believes in a few things—­even if they’s eliphints.  What do you think of the fellow forrads?  Do you believe in him to any extent?”

The third mate appeared much amused at the conversation, but did not speak.  He was a remarkably good-looking young fellow, and I noted the fact at the time.

Trunnell did not answer the last remark, but held himself very straight in his chair.

“Do you believe much in the fellow who was skipper, especially after his tryin’ to carve Mr. Rolling?”

“I believe him a good sailor,” said Trunnell, stiffening up.

“Ye don’t say?” said the skipper.

“I never critisizez my officers,” said Trunnell; and after that the skipper let him alone.

I was pleased with Trunnell.  His philosophy was all right, and I believed from that time he was an honest man.  Things began to look a little brighter, and in spite of an aversion to the skipper which had begun to creep upon me, I now saw that he was an observing fellow, and was quick to know the value of men.  I didn’t like his allusion to a bit and bar for a man, but thought little about the matter.  In a short time Trunnell relieved me, and I went below with the carpenter and steward to our mess.

The carpenter was a young Irishman, shipped for the first time.  This was the first time I had been to sea with a ship carpenter who was not either a Russian, a Finn, or a Swede.  The steward was a little mulatto, who announced, as he sat down, after bringing in the hash, that he was bloody glad he was an Englishman, and looked at me for approval.

This was to show that he did not approve of the scene he had witnessed on the main deck in the morning, and I accepted it as a token of friendship.