“What about?”
“Your leg.”
“He hasn’t seen it yet.”
“Why, Tanner,” I cried, “you haven’t had it properly bandaged.”
“No; I felt so sick when I got on board, that I sneaked off here to lie down a bit. Besides, he had poor old Blacksmith to see to, and the other chaps.”
“But didn’t he see the bandage when you went there?”
“No; there was no bandage then. It’s only a bit of a scratch; I tied it up myself.”
“How was it?”
“I don’t hardly know. It was done in a scuffle somehow, when we had got the first prisoner in hand. He began laying about him with a knife, and gave it to two of our lads badly, and just caught me in the leg. It was so little that I didn’t like to make a fuss about it. Here, stop, don’t leave a chap. I want to talk to you.”
“Back directly,” I cried, and I hurried on deck so quickly that I nearly blundered up against Mr Reardon.