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luk666 แจก เครดิต ฟรี "I hope to drink up every drop of water in the Alabama River if I did not forget all about that! Gollywomps! Dave is getting stupid," exclaimed the steward, springing to his feet. "I can't bring you a regular dinner, Massa Christy, but I will do the best I can." No doubt he was greatly surprised to hear his name, pronounced as though it came up through the deck, as he had abundant reason to be. The commission and other papers were all right in every respect. Christy handed his envelope to the commander, and he broke it open. It contained nothing but a lot of blank paper. He was absolutely confident that he was himself Lieutenant Christopher Passford, and as absolutely confident that the other officer could not be that person, whoever else he might be. The commander appeared to be considering what Christy had suggested to him in regard to his orders, and the passenger had a minute or two to think of the situation in which he found himself placed. But what was the use to think of it? He was at the end of a blind alley, where there was no light from any direction except that by which he had entered it. He had no premises from which to reason, and it was useless to consider the matter. The lieutenant had covered his lantern, for he 320 did not wish to wake the other sleepers in the cabin, after the description the Russian had given of his man. Mike spoke in a low tone to him, and it did not take him long to make his toilet, for he slept just as he was clothed during the day. No one knew how old he was, but he was still brisk in his movements. The officer led the way to one of the deserted cabins at a considerable distance from the one occupied by Uncle Job. "Den I gib you all de answers you want," replied the negro with a cheerful smile. "Whar de gumboat?"