“I’m a saving of all this up, Sam Oakum,” whispered Rasp. “I shall pay it all off on Mr Blackguard here some day.”
“Some night,” whispered Sam Oakum back in a choking voice, “and that’s to-night.”
“What did you drag that dog here for?” cried the Cuban, now coming up, sword in hand, and making a thrust at the prostrate figure, as Hester tried to relievo Dutch of his helmet.
“Here, mind what you’re after,” said Rasp, snappishly, warding off the blow with an iron bar. “Don’t be a fool. ’Spose you spyle that ingy-rubber soot, how are we going to get another?”
The Cuban turned upon him furiously, but as the quaint old fellow seemed not in the least afraid, he turned it off with a laugh.
“What did I pull him up for, eh?” said Rasp. “Why, becos I haven’t done with him. I haven’t forgot my percentage on the silver, captain, and this one’s worth half-a-dozen of that t’other old chap.”
“You’re a strange fellow, Rasp,” said the Cuban.
“Strange, am I? I’ve been a diver this forty year a’most, and I’ve never had such diving as this afore. It’s too good to be spyled because you get wild, so now then.”
“You’re right, Rasp,” said the Cuban, laughing, as Hester darted an indignant look at the gruff and apparently heartless old fellow. “Here, a couple of you, throw this dog down in the cabin.”
As a couple of the men approached, the Cuban took a turn up and down the deck, and Hester started as Rasp, while apparently leaning over the helmet, whispered: