If I had had my certificate in my pocket I should have
tried to slip away quietly; but Mr. Powell had turned about into the same
position I found him in at first and was again swinging his leg. My
certificate open on the desk was under his left elbow and I couldn't very
well go up and jerk it away.
"I don't know," says he carelessly, addressing the helpless captain but
looking fixedly at me with an expression as if I hadn't been there. "I
don't know whether I ought to tell you that I know of a disengaged second
mate at hand."
"Do you mean you've got him here?" shouts the other looking all over the
empty public part of the office as if he were ready to fling himself
bodily upon anything resembling a second mate. He had been so full of
his difficulty that I verify believe he had never noticed me. Or perhaps
seeing me inside he may have thought I was some understrapper belonging
to the place. But when Mr. Powell nodded in my direction he became very
quiet and gave me a long stare. Then he stooped to Mr. Powell's ear--I
suppose he imagined he was whispering, but I heard him well enough.
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