“Beg pardon, sir; I hesitate like ’cause I don’t want to seem imperent.”
“Then I’ll forgive you if it is, Tom. Now then, what were you going to say?”
“Only this, sir; wouldn’t it have been handier like to ha’ kep’ him aboard the Seafowl where the watches are going on reg’lar, and the doctor could ha’ looked in upon him now and then?”
“Perhaps it would, Tom,” replied Murray, “but Captain Kingsberry and the first lieutenant may have had special reasons for what they are doing.”
“Of course, sir; azackly, sir; but somehow this here does seem a bit quiet like after what we was doing before.”
“Less exciting, Tom?”
“Yes, sir. Don’t think it likely, do you, sir, that the Yankee chap who has been giving the gent inside so much trouble and nearly wherriting his life out over the slaver, may drop in to see him, do you, sir?”
“No, Tom, I don’t,” said the middy shortly. “Neither do you.”
Tom May shook his head and looked very hard at his officer.
“Beg pardon, sir, but you arn’t quite right like, because that’s just what I was thinking, and that you might like for us all to be quite ready for him if he did come.”