"I wonder if he is fishing?
If he is, it seems to me it is a queer way to go at it." As Wingate left the rail he walked directly to where the boy stood.
When he discovered Sam he started back as if confronted by a ghost.
"Oh--er--didn't know anybody was up," he stammered.
"It was so hot in my stateroom I couldn't sleep," answered Sam.

"I came out to get the air." "It's almost as hot on deck as it is anywhere," said the deck hand, and his tone had little of cordiality in it.
"I think I'll go forward and try it there." "Yes, it's a little breezier at the bow, sir.

By the way, did you-- er--see me trying to catch some of those firefish just now ?" "I saw you doing something, I didn't see what." "I thought I might get one, but they are all gone now," answered Wingate, and slouched off, whistling in that peculiar manner of his.
Sam walked slowly to the bow.

As he did this, Wingate turned to look at him in a speculative way.
"Wonder if the young fool saw what I was up to ?" he muttered.

"If he did I'd better go slow.