Archy peered in at the dark passage, his heart beating as he listened to the noise made by the two men crawling in, and the last of the two had hardly disappeared when there was a shout, a scuffle, and the boatswain plunged in.
“All right!” they heard Gurr say. “I’ve got him. Hold still, you varmint, or I’ll cut your ears off. Here, Dick, get by me, and go forrard if you can.”
There was more scuffling, and the rattle of a stone or two, as the listeners pictured in their own minds the man squeezing past the master and his prisoner, and then Dick’s voice came out in a half smothered way:
“Can’t get no farther. All choked-up.”
“All right, then, but make sure.”
“Oh, I’m sure enough,” said Dick. “It’s all a stopper here.”
“Then out you come, my lad,” said the master; and the next minute his legs were seed as he backed out, dragging evidently some one after him who was resisting.
“Here, Dick,” came in smothered tones.
“Ay, ay, sir.”
“Says he won’t come. If he gives me any more of his nonsense, touch him up behind with the pynte of your cutlash.”