LAYING OUT A PLAN OF OPERATIONS  
Christy had deposited his valise in a place where it was not likely to be seen unless a search was made for it. There was no one in the ward room to obstruct his advance to the captain's cabin. He had served as acting-commander of the vessel in a voyage from New York to the Gulf, and been the executive officer on board for a short term, and he was perfectly at home in every part of her. In the conspiracy on his last voyage in the Bronx, Pink Mulgrum had concealed himself under the berth in the captain's stateroom, where Dave, the cabin steward, had discovered him, though he might have remained there a month if his hiding-place had not been suspected.
 
Christy thought this would be an excellent retreat for him, not only because it promised him the greatest security, but because it would permit 126 him to hear what passed between the pretended commander and others, especially Mr. Galvinne. He had been reasonably confident of returning to the gunboat when he went to the North as prize master, though not as her commander, and he had left his trunk on board.
 
It was a humiliating posture for the actual commander of the vessel, but he promptly got down upon the floor of the stateroom, and crawled under the berth. He placed the trunk and some other articles there so as to form a sort of breast-work, behind which he carefully bestowed himself. It was not an uncomfortable position, for the floor was carpeted and an old satchel filled with his cast-off garments furnished him a pillow sufficiently soft for a person on extraordinary duty.
 
The cabin was to be occupied by Corny, though his cousin had no doubt that Mr. Galvinne was the real leader in the adventure of capturing the steamer. Both of them would be obliged to keep up appearances for the present. Christy's first thought after he had settled himself in his new quarters related to the cabin steward, who had served him very faithfully, and whom he had 127 brought off in the Teaser, the former name of the Bronx. He had no doubt he was still on board, and probably acting in his former capacity, for Mr. Flint knew that he was attached to the man for the service he had rendered, not only to him but to his country. He was absolutely sure that Dave could be trusted under any and all circumstances, and the first thing he did would be to make a connection with him.
 
Christy became rather impatient because the Bronx did not get under way; but he concluded from such sounds as came to his ears that she was taking in shot, shells, and powder, as well as stores and supplies. At any rate, neither Corny nor his first lieutenant came into the cabin, so far as he could ascertain. But he had not been in his hiding-place an hour before he heard a noise in the adjoining apartment. It was not the commander, for the noise was an occasional rapping; it was not an unfamiliar sound to him, for he had often heard it before when he lay in his berth. Dave was a remarkably neat person, and he was always dusting the cabin and stateroom when he had nothing else to do. He was sure that the rapping was caused by the steward's feather duster.
 
128 In a few minutes, when he had made the cabin tidy for the reception of "Massa Cap'n Passford," he transferred his labors to the stateroom. He worked in the berth and all its surroundings, including the desk, which still contained the real commander's papers, and then gave his attention to the trunk beneath.
 
"Dave," said Christy, after he had obtained a view of the back of the steward's head which satisfied him that he was the right man.
 
"Mullygumps!" exclaimed Dave, as he suspended his labors on the trunk.
 
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.
 
"Dave," repeated Christy, in a more decided tone after he had heard the voice of the steward.
 
"Is that you, Pink Mulgrum?" demanded Dave. "I give you the whole State of Alabama, but I thought we done rid of you long ago. Who's there?"
 
"Don't you know me, Dave?" asked Christy, speaking out plainly so that the steward might recognize his voice.
 
"Maggywogs! That sounds like Massa Christy's 129 voice; but I done seen him on deck five or ten minutes ago."
 
"No, you didn't, Dave; that was Corny," replied Christy.
 
"Gollywops! But he was in command of the Bronx, for I done seen Mr. Flint hand it over to him. Go 'way! You can't fool this colored person."
 
"I tell you the truth, Dave; but things are mixed," added Christy.
 
"I believe you; they be mixed if you be the captain when I done seen him on deck just now."
 
"Sit down on the floor, Dave, and I will tell you all about it," continued Christy, though the difficulty of convincing the steward was not unexpected.
 
"Let me see your face before you told me anything," persisted Dave, as he pulled out one end of the trunk, and dropped upon his knees where he could see under the berth.
 
Christy crawled to the front of the berth, and thrust his head out into the stateroom in as natural a position as he could place it.
 
"Wollywogs! You look like Massa Christy, for sure," exclaimed Dave, as he gave himself up 130 to a study of the face presented to him. "But the captain looks like Massa Christy too."
 
"You have never seen my cousin Corny, I believe, Dave; but he looks like me. Now sit down, and I will tell you all about it."
 
"I never saw Massa Corny; but I done hear enough about him when I was at Bonnydale. Show me your knife and your watch, Massa Christy."
 
He complied with the request, as he saw that it was a very simple means of identification, for the steward had some skill as a mechanic, and he had frequently sharpened the knife, and knew the repeater of the lieutenant from having seen it so often, for it was a very peculiar watch. Dave's last doubt vanished when these articles w............