“Servant girl’s fetched ’em out to clean, perhaps,” said Vince quietly.
“Eh? Think so? Well, they did want it.—Get out! I don’t see any need for jeering at our position here. Just as if I didn’t know better! Here, you must have got them on.”
“Not I! Even if I wanted to, one of your great ugly boots would be big enough for both of my feet.”
“Do you want to quarrel, Cinder?” said Mike roughly.
“Not here. Isn’t room enough. There are your boots, one on each side of the door in the corners of the cabin.”
“Then you must have kicked them there, and—”
Mike did not finish, for the lugger gave such a lurch that the boy went in a rush against the opposite bulkhead with a heavy bang.
“Didn’t kick you there, at all events,” said Vince, who was fastening his last buttons.
“Why, the sea’s getting up,” said Mike. “Has it been blowing up above?”
“Haven’t been on deck, but it has been alarming down here. I had a horrible job to find my things. They were all over the place.”