“What’s your game? Going to take the end out to a steam-tug, or is the gunboat going to tow us out to sea?”
“Don’t ask questions, please. It’s private business of the skipper’s, under the orders of Mr Burnett and me.”
“Ho! All right, my lad; only oughtn’t I to know what we are going to do? You are going off somewhere in the boat, eh?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“And I’m not to come?”
“Oh, but you are,” cried Poole, “and I’ve told you the men I’ve picked for the job. Don’t you think it’s a good crew?”
“Middling,” said the boatswain grudgingly. “Might be better; might be wuss. But look here, young fellow; I don’t like working in the dark.”
“I am sorry for you,” said Fitz, “for this will be an all-night job.”
“Then I’d better take my nightcap,” said the boatswain quietly. “But what’s up? Are you going to make fast to the gunboat and tow her in?”
“You know we are not,” replied Poole.