overboard in the same night.

Surely there was some mystery in this.

Two mornings later the Captain appeared at the breakfast-table with
the same shifting and uneasy look in his eye.

"Anything wrong, sir?" I asked.

"Yes," he answered, trying to appear at ease and twisting a fried
egg to and fro between his fingers with such nervous force as almost
to break it in two--"I regret to say that we have lost the bosun."

"The bosun!" I cried.

"Yes," said Captain Bilge more quietly, "he is overboard. I blame
myself for it, partly. It was early this morning. I was holding him
up in my arms to look at an iceberg and, quite accidentally I assure
you--I dropped him overboard."

"Captain Bilge," I asked, "have you taken any steps to recover him?"

"Not as yet," he replied uneasily.

I looked at him fixedly, but said nothing.

Ten days passed.

The mystery thickened. On Thursday two men of the starboard watch
were reported missing. On Friday the carpenter's assistant