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Updated: May 20, 2025
"Wait a minute!" cried Roger suddenly. "Jeff Marshall!" "Jeff?" asked Tom. "What about him?" "He can get to the control deck and take a look at the logbook," answered Roger. "Say, that's right," said Tom. "Come on," said Roger. "Let's finish off this tour and get back to the Polaris. If Vidac's on the level, he'll have sent your report to Captain Strong. If not, we know where we stand."
Mabie had certainly quite won their youthful hearts by his genial ways. Frank was the last one to meet with an adventure on this occasion, which was fated to be written down in his logbook as worthy of remembrance. He had been out riding, and his horse, stepping into a gopher hole, threw him. Frank was not seriously hurt, but the horse went lame, so that he could not be ridden.
"I lost the professor's notes and needed the information in the logbook, sir," said Jeff. "What are you talking about?" growled Sykes. "The notes are still in my work journal. You put them there yourself!" "What have you got to say to that?" demanded Vidac. "I repeat, sir," said Jeff, "that was my reason for looking in the log." Vidac paused, and when he spoke, his voice was cold.
The diversion they caused put Davies out of vein. I tried to revive the subject, but he was reserved and diffident. The untidy bookshelf reminded me of the logbook, and when Davies had retired with the crockery to the forecastle, I pulled the ledger down and turned over the leaves.
Then he added, "And now, Mister Fitzgibbon, and you, Mister Lynch if you will escort this mutinous scoundrel below to the cabin, I'll see that this affair is properly entered in the logbook, and then we will put him in a place where he cannot work further mischief. Connolly, you and your mate may go for'ard." A moment later I was alone on the poop.
A correct account of the soundings is entered in the logbook; this book contains a description of the ship's course, the direction of the wind, and other circumstances, during every hour of each day and night.
Roadmaster laughed a little and rejoined: "By God, sir, you're a man! But it isn't likely that I'd accept it of you, is it? You've had it rough enough, without my putting a rock in your swag that would spoil you for the rest of the tramp. You see, I've even forgotten how to talk like a gentleman. And now, sir, I want to show you, for Barbara's sake, my dirty logbook."
One would gladly know albeit Pigafetta's journal and the still more laconic pilot's logbook leave us in the dark on this point how the ignorant and suffering crews interpreted this everlasting stretch of sea, vaster, said Maximilian Transylvanus, "than the human mind could conceive."
That Defoe used Selkirk's story is practically certain; but with his usual duplicity he claimed to have written Crusoe in 1708, a year before Selkirk's return. However that may be, the story itself is real enough to have come straight from a sailor's logbook.
Now I well knew that some of the crew, and especially the mates, would be able to write, and of the mate's ability to use a pen I speedily satisfied myself by making him produce his logbook, wherein his name, &c., was written; or, if unable to write, the usual X, his mark, would have been affixed to each name. I had now no doubt about the papers, believing them to be false.
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