“Yes,” cried Archy; “but they shall smart for all this. I know where all their hiding-places are, and we’ll hunt them down.”
“Hooray!” shouted the men.
“Were you looking for me?”
“Well, not to-night, my lad. Making a bit of a patrol,” said Gurr. “The skipper thought that perhaps we might run against something or another, and we have and no mistake. But what’s the matter? Not hurt, are you?”
“No, not much. I got a blow on the shoulder, and then some one gave me a chop with a cutlass.”
“That was you, Dirty Dick! I did see that,” cried one of the men.
“Well, I don’t say it warn’t me. How was I to know it was a orsifer in the dark, and smothered up like that?”
“Are you wounded, then?” cried the master excitedly.
“No; it felt more like a blow, but people kept trampling on me after I was down.”
“That’s bad,” said Gurr, giving vent to a low whistle. “Here, lads, let’s carry him to the boat.”