co
Slope, till it finally disappeared into the Deep Hole. If it was any
other part of the sea I'd try and get it for you; but not there."

The Doctor: "Well, that is all, I think. I hate to put you back into the
sea, because I know that as soon as I do, I'll think of a hundred other
questions I wanted to ask you. But I must keep my promise. Would
you care for anything before you go?--it seems a cold day--some
cracker-crumbs or something?"

The Fidgit: "No, I won't stop. All I want just at present is fresh
sea-water."

The Doctor: "I cannot thank you enough for all the information you have
given me. You have been very helpful and patient."

The Fidgit: "Pray do not mention it. It has been a real pleasure to
be of assistance to the great John Dolittle. You are, as of course
you know, already quite famous among the better class of fishes.
Goodbye!--and good luck to you, to your ship and to all your plans!"

The Doctor carried the listening-tank to a porthole, opened it and
emptied the tank into the sea. "Good-bye!" he murmured as a faint splash
reached us from without.

I dropped my pencil on the table and leaned back with a sigh. My fingers
were so stiff with writers' cramp that I felt as though I should never
be able to open my hand again. But I, at least, had had a night's sleep.
As for the poor Doctor, he was so weary that he had hardly put the tank
back upon the table and dropped into a chair, when his eyes closed and
he began to snore.

In the passage outside Polynesia scratched angrily at the door. I rose
and let her in.

"A nice state of affairs!" she stormed. "What sort of a ship is this?
There's that colored man upstairs asleep under the wheel; the Doctor
asleep down here; and you making pot-hooks in a copy-book with a pencil!
Expect the ship to steer herself to Brazil? We're just drifting around
the sea like an empty bottle--and a week behind time as it is. What's
happened to you all?"

She was so angry that her voice rose to a scream. But it would have
taken more than that to wake the Doctor.

I put the note-book carefully in a drawer and went on deck to take the
wheel.

THE THIRD CHAPTER. BAD WEATHER

AS soon as I had the Curlew swung round upon her course again I noticed
something peculiar: we were not going as fast as we had been. Our
favorable wind had almost entirely disappeared.

This, at first, we did not worry about, thinking that at any moment it
might spring up again. But the