Well, sir, that took us right between wind and water, as the old privateering stories say. We thought the fight was over and we’d won, and here, when there didn’t seem to be another thing to do, Uncle Hieronymous had up and gone away. I crumpled up in the boat and felt like crying.
“Wh-where did he go?” Mark asked. It was the first time he had spoken.
“Go? He go dis mornin’,” says Ole.
“Nine-ten o’clock,” says Jerry.
“But where? Where d-d-did he go?”
“Oh-ho!” says Jerry. “Haw-haw! Listen, Ole. You hear dat?”
“Haw-haw!” says Ole. “I hear. She bane talk funny, eh?”
“Talk some more again,” says Jerry.
Mark was red as a beet, and I expected to hear him tear right into them and tell them what for, but he didn’t. I guess he knew they didn’t mean any harm and weren’t even trying to be rude. They were just interested.
“Do you know wh-wh-where he went?” Mark asked again.