It took a deal of time, for I wrote in the smallest possible characters,
and was careful to make them legible--no small task, considering that the
vessel was still rolling and pitching, although it grew calmer toward
morning.
We did not have any method of measuring the time, for no bells were
struck--at least, none that we heard--and Captain Riggs did not have his
watch with him, for he had not been back to his cabin from the time I saw
him leave it with Harris to explore the mysterious cargo in the
storeroom.
As I wrote I was hammering my brains for some solution of the problem
before us; for, although I took pains to make the story complete, I was
hoping that Captain Riggs would finally hit upon some scheme which would
release us from the forecastle and give an opportunity to do battle with
our captors.
I took a measure of pride in writing the story, too, for I knew there was
a good chance that it might be my last, and I had visions of it being
printed in the newspapers some day.
"I'll cut a little pennant from Rajah's _sarong_," said Riggs with a
grin, and he reached up to the sleeping boy and hacked off a bit of his
skirtlike garb.
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