“I wonder what he wants,” mused Dan, as they started away.
“Maybe he wants to fight us both, now, because we pulled him out of the brine,” laughed Sam Hickey.
Kester had not improved as rapidly as had been expected. They found him on a cot in the sick bay, pale and weak from his terrible experience.
“Hello, Bill,” greeted Sam, with a grin. “How are you feeling to-day?”
“Tolerable, shipmates. Dynie, you licked me didn’t you?” he demanded after a pause, using the nickname that the men had bestowed upon Dan.
“I’m sorry,” muttered Dan.
“I got what I deserved, I did. But I didn’t know I had. I swore I’d get even with you. I said you and me couldn’t stay on the same ship.”
“Never mind, that’s all right,” murmured Dan, at a loss what to say.
“It ain’t all right. I’ve got something I want to say to you. Dynamite, I cut them hammock lashings.”
Kester waited to let his words sink in, but neither boy made any reply. So the man went on: