“No, nor don’t want to.”
“I do, and I have already named the whirlpool ‘the Ibrahim.’”
“Thanks for the honor. But let us get back to uncle, and—Girzilla.”
“My dear fellow, you are in love with the pretty Egyptian. How she will listen to your ‘hairbreadth ’scapes on sea and land.’”
“Hush! we are drifting.”
“Drifting isn’t the word for it, we are going thirty miles an hour. Pull, you lazy Arab, pull!”
Max exerted all his strength.
The Arab became purple in the face with the strain.
On both the perspiration stood in great drops; their sinews were like huge cords stretched under the skin.
“Snap!”