about nine o'clock in the morning
I asked , meaning to laugh it out of him , but as I spoke I remembered the water-logged pipe . `` I guess he 's using his own still , '' the man answered , in a queer , low voice . `` Perhaps he 'll take some one else 's when his is all gone . '' It was about nine o'clock in the morning , I remember , for just then the captain called to me to stand by the chronometer while he took his fore observation . Captain Hackstaff was n't one of those old skippers who do everything themselves with a pocket watch , and keep the key of the chronometer in their waistcoat pocket , and wo n't tell the mate how far the dead reckoning is out . He was rather the other way , and I was glad of it , for he generally let me work the sights he took , and just ran his eye over my figures afterwards . I am bound to say his eye was pretty good , for he would pick out a mistake in a logarithm , or tell me that I had worked the `` Equation of Time '' with the wrong sign , before it seemed to me that he could have got as far as `` half the sum , minus the altitude . ''