“Certainly is a queer layout, anyhow,” Jack mused. “Murphy and the doctor the only white men we have seen other than ‘Black George.’ Aren’t there any officers? Are all others aboard Chinamen? Well, here goes.”
And trying the handle of the outer door, and finding it turn soundlessly, he opened it inch by inch. The companionway was empty. A short flight of steps led to the deck. Mounting several, he found his head on a level with the deck and started to raise it cautiously to peer out.
The sound of low-voiced conversation came to his ears, and instinctively he bent down again. Listening a moment, he decided that he had not been seen, for the whispering went on. It came, he believed, from a point not far to the right, on the other side of the wooden bulwark of the companionway.
He held his breath, straining painfully. Whoever they were, they were speaking in English. Yet neither voice was that of Matt Murphy. Who could they be? He had to see.
Slowly, slowly, scarcely moving, yet edging forward all the time, Jack peered around the bulwark. Presently he saw them. They were two in number, and one was the little fat doctor who looked after “Black George.” The other was a sodden-looking man of middle age, with a smudge of grease over one eye and his face generally dark with grime and coal dust. He was in his undershirt and carried a wrench in his right hand.
“We’ll soon have her fixed now, Doc,” this latter individual was saying, “nothing wrong but a couple of bolts shaken loose in the storm. Thought I’d better lay up and tighten things generally. That’s all. Well, so long, I have to keep them Chinks moving or we’ll never get the work finished.”
The engineer, Jack correctly surmised. He started to move on. The fat little doctor laid a detaining hand on his arm, and glanced around nervously. Jack hastily withdrew his head, only to advance it again cautiously a moment later. The doctor’s back was turned.
“Mr. MacFinney,” he said to the engineer. “You don’t know what’s happening to your engines while you’re away, do you?”
“Not with them Chinks around,” said the other, laughing a little. “They don’t know much about machinery.”
“The Chinamen,” said the doctor, darkly. “That’s just it.”