Cledd had spoken, Blodgett came aft, we were
surprised; but he approached us with an air of suppressed excitement, which
averted any reprimand Mr. Cledd may have had in mind.
"If you please, sir," he said, "there's a sail to windward."
"To windward? You're mistaken. You ought to call out if you see a sail, but
it's just as well you didn't this time."
Mr. Cledd turned his back on Blodgett after looking hard up the wind.
"If you please, sir, I've got good eyes." Blodgett's manner was such that
no one could be seriously offended by his persistence.
"My eyes are good, too," Mr. Cledd replied rather sharply. "I see no
sail."
Nor did I.
Blodgett leaned on the rail and stared into the darkness like a cat. "If
you please, sir," he said, "I beg your pardon, but I _can_ see a sail."
Now, for the first time I thought that I myself saw something moving. "I
see a bank of fog blowing westward," I remarked, "but I don't think it's a
sail."
After a moment, Mr. Cledd spoke up frankly. "I'll take back what I've just
said. I see it too. It's only a junk, but I suppose we'd better call the
captain."
"Only a junk!" Blodgett repeated sharply. "When last we saw 'em, a junk was
all they had.
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