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Torkeldsen," the cook began, and then stopped. I supposed he was going to ask me to let the watch break out a barrel of flour, or some salt horse. "Well, doctor?" I asked, as he didn't go on. "Well, Mr. Torkeldsen," he answered, "I somehow want to ask you whether you think I am giving satisfaction on this ship, or not?" "So far as I know, you are, doctor.
I could see that she hadn't been brought up on steam-heat and cold storage, but had grown into a woman by the sea-shore. She had brown eyes, and fine brown hair, and a good figure. "This is Captain Torkeldsen," said Jack. "This is Miss Brewster, captain; and she is glad to see you." "Well, I am," said Miss Mamie, "for Jack has often talked to us about you, captain."
Besides, they all knew as well as I did that the man could not be right in our wake. I don't know why I spoke again. "Jack Benton, are you there? Will you go if I will?" "No, sir," answered a voice; and that was all. By that time the old man was on deck, and I felt his hand on my shoulder rather roughly, as if he meant to shake me. "I'd reckoned you had more sense, Mr. Torkeldsen," he said.
There were two forks in it, sir, lying side by side. Then the doctor grabbed his knife, and flew up through the hatch like a rocket. The other fork was there all right, Mr. Torkeldsen, for we all saw it and handled it; and we all had our own. That's all I know."
It seemed as if he couldn't speak for two or three seconds; then his words came thick. "It wasn't my fault, Mr. Torkeldsen. I swear it wasn't my fault!" That was all; and he dropped over the side, leaving me to wonder what he meant. The captain and I stayed on board, and the ship-chandler got a West India boy to cook for us.