“Haven’t got one, Tom Jecks.”
“Well, s’pose you had one, and he took it and sailed away as hard as he could go, sir. It wouldn’t be very easy for you to tell whether he’d stole it or borrowed it, eh, sir?”
“Oh, bother I don’t ask riddles now, we’re so busy. Here: over we go.”
“Lie to the windward, all of you,” shouted Mr Brooke, who was now at the tiller. “More aft there; that’s better.”
For the boat had careened over to so great an extent that she had taken in a little water, and I felt that we were about to be capsized.
But she rose again and skimmed along rapidly for the mouth of the river, and I crept close to my officer again.
“Shall I take the tiller, sir?” I said.
“No, Herrick, I’ll keep it for the present. I want to get all I can out of the boat, and keep up as much sail as possible without capsizing. It’s wonderful what these clumsy things can do.”
“Yes, sir, we’re going pretty fast, but I’m afraid the one behind goes faster.”
“She does, my lad, for her crew know exactly how to manage. I don’t want any more fighting if I can help it, but if they do overtake us I think we can soon send them back again. Men seem much hurt? Do they complain?” he whispered.