him there wasn't a thing right on the whole ship. The anchor was
hitched up wrong; the hatches weren't fastened down properly; the
sails were put on back to front; all our knots were the wrong
kind of knots.

At last the Doctor told him to stop talking and go downstairs. He
refused--said he wasn't going to be sunk by landlubbers while he
was still able to stay on deck.

This made us feel a little uneasy. He was such an enormous man
there was no knowing what he might do if he got really
obstreperous.

Bumpo and I were talking about this downstairs in the
dining-saloon when Polynesia, Jip and Chee-Chee came and joined
us. And, as usual, Polynesia had a plan.

"Listen," she said, "I am certain this Ben Butcher is a smuggler
and a bad man. I am a very good judge of seamen, remember, and I
don't like the cut of this man's jib. I--"

"Do you really think," I interrupted, "that it is safe for the
Doctor to cross the Atlantic without any regular seamen on his
ship?"

You see it had upset me quite a good deal to find that all the
things we had been doing were wrong; and I was beginning to
wonder what might happen if we ran into a storm--particularly as
Miranda had only said the weather would be good for a certain
time; and we seemed to be having so many delays. But Polynesia