I felt certain that he was acting dense, purposely. I believe the
truth of the matter is that he was, in a way, ashamed of having let
himself go like he had, in speaking out his thoughts about "shadders."
That type of man may think things at times; but he doesn't often put
them into words. Anyhow, I saw it was no use asking any further
questions; so I let the matter drop there. Yet, for several days
afterwards, I caught myself wondering, at times, what the fellow had
meant by "shadders."
We left 'Frisco next day, with a fine, fair wind, that seemed a bit like
putting the stopper on the yarns I had heard about the ship's ill luck.
And yet--
He hesitated a moment, and then went on again.
For the first couple of weeks out, nothing unusual happened, and the
wind still held fair. I began to feel that I had been rather lucky,
after all, in the packet into which I had been shunted. Most of the
other fellows gave her a good name, and there was a pretty general
opinion growing among the crowd, that it was all a silly yarn about her
being haunted.
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