“And most got drownded, sir. Well, that all come o’ the lads skylarking. If ever I’m skipper of a ship, no skylarking then. I s’pose there’ll be a reglar hooroar in the morning, and Mr Reardon wanting to know who started the game.”
“And you’ll tell him, Tom?” I said.
“O’ course, sir,” he replied, with a solemn wink. “I’m just the man to go and split upon my messmates.”
“But you’ll be punished if you don’t tell. You can’t get out of it, because it’s known that you were teasing him; and it wouldn’t be fair for you to be punished and for them to escape.”
“No, sir, it wouldn’t; but sech is life. Wrong chap generally gets the kick as some one else ought to have ketched, but ’tarn’t your fault, and it’s no use to grumble.”
“But it is your fault, if you know who were the offenders and will not tell.”
“Is it? Humph! S’pose it is, sir. You’re right. That’s where you gents as is scholards gets over the like of me. I see it now; you are right, sir. What a wonderful head you’ve got for arguing, sewerly!”
“Then you’ll tell Mr Reardon in the morning?”
“I didn’t say as I would, sir.”
“No; but you will?”