Mr. Percival, amiably: “Permit me to explain, Captain Trigger. You see, I have been obliged to change staterooms three times. Naturally, that might be expected to create some little confusion in my mind. I began in the second cabin. Much to my surprise and chagrin I found, too late, that the stateroom I had chosen,--at random, I may say,--was merely in the state of being prepared for a lady and gentleman who had asked to be transferred from a less desirable one. I had some difficulty in getting out of it without attracting attention. I don't know what I should have done if the steward hadn't informed them that he could not move their steamer-trunk until morning. There wouldn't have been room for both of us under the berth, sir. If the gentleman had been alone I shouldn't have minded in the least remaining, under his berth, but he--”
Captain Trigger: “How did you happen to get into that room, young man? The doors are never unlocked when the rooms are unoccupied.”
Mr. Percival: “You are mistaken, sir. I found at least three stateroom doors unlocked that night, and my search was by no means extensive.”
Captain Trigger: “This is most extraordinary, Mr. Mott,--if true.”
Mr. Mott: “It shall be looked into, sir.”
Mr. Percival: “I tried another room in the second cabin, but had to abandon it also. It had no regular occupant,--it was Number 221 remember,--but along about midnight two men opened the door with a key and came in. They were stewards. I gathered that they were getting the room ready for someone else, so when they departed,--very quietly, sir,--I sneaked out and decided to try for accommodations in the first cabin. I--”
Mr. Percival: “That's what I took them to be.”
Captain Trigger: “You are either lying, young man, or plumb crazy.”
Mr. Percival, with dignity: “The latter is quite possible, Captain,--but not the former. I managed quite easily to get from the second cabin to the first. You'd be surprised to know how simple it was. Running without lights as you do, sir, simplified things tremendously. I found a very sick and dejected Jewish gentleman trying to die in the least exposed corner of the promenade deck. At least, he said he didn't want to live. I offered to put him to bed and to sit up with him all night if it would make him feel a little less like passing away. He lurched at the chance. I accompanied him to his stateroom, and so got a few much-needed hours of repose, despite his groans. I also ate his breakfast for him. Skirmishing around this morning, I found there were no unoccupied rooms in the first cabin, so I decided that we were far enough from land for me to reveal myself to the officer of the day,--if that's what you call 'em on board ship,--with a very honest and laudable desire to work my passage home. I can only add, Captain, that I am ready and willing to do anything from swabbing floors on the upper deck to passing coal at the bottom of the ship.”