The Cuban kicked the senseless man brutally as he lay, and, two of the sailors taking him by the legs and arms, he was dragged to the hatch, and then drawn heavily down the stairs.
“If I don’t warm the wax o’ that fellow’s ears for all this, Sam Oakum, my name ain’t Rasp,” said the old fellow, laughing to himself. “I want one of these here diving suits very pertickler, my friend, very pertickler indeed. Ho, ho, ho!”
“Right,” said Oakum, in a low voice. “To-night, mind.”
“Oakum,” said the Cuban sharply; and the old sailor faced round, wondering whether he had been heard, while Rasp went on mending and arranging his diving tackle as if nothing was the matter.
“Sir to you,” said Sam.
“I shall sail to-night or to-morrow morning. Have all ready.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” said Sam cheerfully; and then to himself, “Perhaps you will, and for a longish voyage.”
“We’ve got all the silver here, and I think I shall try one more spot.”
“All right, capen,” said Sam; “nothing like having a good cargo while you’re about it.”
“Have all ready,” said the Cuban gloomily.