Hamlin. After thinking the matter over in all its details, I wrote a few
letters on a piece of white paper, and found opportunity to take counsel
with my friend the cook, when I, as the youngest in the crew, was left in
the galley to bring the kids forward to the men in the forecastle.

"Doctor," I said, "if I wanted to get a note to Mr. Hamlin without
anybody's knowing,--particularly the steward or Mr. Falk,--how should I go
about it?"

The perpetually frowning black heaped salt beef on the kids. "Dah's enough
grub foh a hun'erd o'nary men. Dey's enough meat dah to feed a whole
regiment of Sigambeezel cavalry--yass, sah, ho'ses and all. And yet Ah'll
bet you foh dollahs right out of mah pay, doze pesky cable-scrapers fo'ward
'll eat all dat meat and cuss me in good shape 'cause it ain't mo', and
den, mah golly, dey'll sot up all night, Ah'll bet you, yass, sah,
a-kicking dey heads off 'cause dey ain't fed f'om de cabin table. Boy, if
you was to set beefsteak and bake' 'taters and ham and eggs down befo' dem
fool men ev'y mo'ning foh breakfas', dey'd come heah hollerin' and cussin'
and tellin' me dey wah n't gwine have dey innards spiled on all dat yeh
truck jest 'cause dem aft can't eat it."

Turning his ferocious scowl full upon me, the savage-looking darky handed
me the kids. "Dah! you take doze straight along fo'ward." Then, dropping
his voice to a whisper, he said, "Gimme yo' note."

Knowing now that the cook approached every important matter by an
extraordinarily indirect route, I had expected some such conclusion, and I
held the note ready.

"Go long," he said, when I had slipped it into his huge black hand. "Ah'll