“Yessuh, dat’s part of it,” returned ’Rastus, with a grin that seemed to show every tooth he possessed.
“What’s the rest of it?” inquired Bobby.
“Mah full name am ’Rastus Abimilech Belshazzar Johnson,” said the little negro, evidently taking no small pride in this pretentious title.
“It’s a wonder we’re still afloat with a name like that aboard,” exclaimed Mr. Parr, the mate. “But you’d better get down below, ’Rastus, and get some dry clothes on.”
“Ah sho’ craves to git me some dry duds,” said ’Rastus. “An’ furdermo’, ’fore Ah goes Ah wants t’ thank, yuh, white boy, for heavin’ me dat cork doughnut de way yuh did. Ah’d be confabulatin’ wid de little fishes down at de bottom of de ocean if yuh hadn’t.”
“Oh, that’s all right,” said Bobby. “Next time you’d better be sure you’ve got a good toe-hold before you decorate the rail.”
“Yessuh,” said ’Rastus, meekly, and departed for the lower regions of the ship, leaving a wet trail on the white deck to mark his going.
The crowd of passengers that had assembled all wanted to shake hands with Bobby at once, and were inclined to make a hero of him, but nothing was further from that young gentleman’s mind, and as soon as possible the three friends made their escape.
“Whew!” exclaimed Bobby, mopping his face, “you’d have thought I had really done something, to listen to that crowd.”
“Well, I should say you have done something,” chuckled Lee. “You’ve saved the longest name I ever heard in my life from getting drowned, haven’t you?”