Tom Jecks laughed softly.
“Oh yes, he could, sir. There’s no knowing how little a man can hang by when he’s obliged. Why, ain’t you heard how we men hangs on to the yards when we’re aloft?”
“Oh yes, I’ve heard,” I said; “by your eyelids.”
“That’s it, sir,” he said, with a dry grin; “and that’s harder than a man hanging on by his hair.”
Ching was still sleeping heavily, and our conversation did not disturb him, and after a few moments’ thought I said—
“But I don’t feel at all sure why he did not hail the boats when they were going off.”
“Oh, I do, sir,” replied Tom Jecks. “I wouldn’t ha’ thought it possible, but the poor fellow was regularly scared, and wouldn’t speak at first, because he thought that if he was hoisted on board the first thing we would do would be to go for his tail.”
“Yes,” I said, “that sounds likely; but he did hail after all.”
“And enough to make him, sir; poor chap. Do you know why?”
“Well, not exactly,” I said.