Chapter Thirty Five.
Mr Brooke’s Error.
“I did not see either of those craft with sails,” I said to Tom Jecks, as we stood watching the following boat, which was evidently making every possible effort to come up with us.
“No, sir, ’twarn’t neither o’ them. I see ’em put off from a bit higher up,” said Jecks. “My hye! they are in a hurry, sir. You’d better tell Mr Brooke he must shake out a reef instead o’ taking one up.”
“No; leave it to him, he doesn’t like interference.”
“No, sir, orficers don’t, and it is their natur’ to. But I say, sir, what a—murder!—what a wrench I give my shoulder.”
“How?”
“Hitting one o’ them pudding-headed Teapots, sir. Didn’t hurt my knuckles, because his head was soft. Just like punching a bladder o’ lard, but the weight on him wrenched the jynte.”
“Wait till we get on board,” I said, “and Mr Price will soon put you right.”
“Bah! not him, sir,” said the man scornfully. “I shouldn’t think o’ going to a doctor for nothing less than losing my head. It’ll soon get right. Exercise is the thing, sir, for a hurt o’ that sort. You and Mr Brooke give us a good job at them pirates out yonder, and I shall forget all about my shoulder.”