Elder Malby soon retired. Chester remained in the saloon for a time,
studying the various aspects of life about him; then he made a
good-night visit to the deck. He looked into the men's smoking room,
where a few yet sat with pipes and beer, playing cards. Among them were
two men, fat-cheeked, smoothly shaven, who were dressed in priestly
garb. There was an expressive American in the company, an Englishman and
a quiet German. Before the American could carry into effect his
intention of asking Chester to join them, the latter had passed by and
out beyond the stench of the tobacco smoke.

"This air, washed clean by a thousand miles of scouring waves, is good
enough for me," thought he.

The wind was not blowing so hard. The sky was nearly clear of clouds.
The moon hung full and bright above the heaving horizon. Here was
another aspect of the wonderful sea, and Chester lingered to get its
full beauty. The steamer rolled heavily between the big waves. The young
man leaned on the railing, and watched the ship's deck dip nearly to
the water, then heave back until the iron sides were exposed nearly to
the keel.

Chester was about to turn in for the night when he heard a commotion,
apparently among the third class passengers. He walked along to where he
could look down on the forward main deck. A number of people were
running about shouting excitedly. Chester ran down the steps to get a
nearer view.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"I don't know. Someone overboard, I think."